ALPHA
by Shadowsammy
Summary: Hotch and Morgan definitely had a way of turning his comfortable life upside down, and it might just be because the two of them were in love with him. Otherwise, Spencer could only think that it might be because each of them was an A.L.P.H.A. Damn testosterone! Hotch X Reid X Morgan. AU ***Fluffy***
1. Chapter One: Prayers

~ Chapter One ~

Prayers

_Let Me Introduce You To  
The Characters In the Show.  
One Says "Yes;" One Says "No."_

_Come Alive, There Are Thoughts Unclear.  
You Can Never Hide. _

~_I Dare You_, by Shinedown

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

At times, it seemed as though the whole world was conspiring against him. There were times that he even considered embracing a religion – _any_ religion, really – if only to have a powerful and omnipotent deity to answer his desperate prayers. Those desperate prayers were few and far between, of course, but he was also admittedly a person of an atheistic mindset. He still prayed, though.

The man exhaled sharply and ran a slender hand through his soft, brown hair. Man, he was such a hypocrite sometimes…

"Oi!" Derek called, raising his booming voice to be heard over the deafening volume of an iPod, one that was resting in its dock and playing a rather loud classical song, too. It was locked on the one of the highest volume settings in order to drown out said booming voice. "Spencer…!"

Spencer had prayed for many things over the course of his short life. There were two prayers in particular, though, that had remained etched in the depths of his brilliant mind.

As a young boy, he had prayed for a friend, someone that would help him through the difficulties of his lonely childhood. That silent prayer had been made during a time that other children had labeled him a social outcast – a pariah. It was a time not too long ago, one that was filled with the memories of being surrounded by mean girls, cruel bullies, and oblivious teachers. Still, he hadn't received an immediate response to that prayer.

So, Spencer hastened to make another one. This one was much more desperate. The young man had prayed to every deity in existence for a reason to keep fighting against the unknown forces that were threatening to engulf him. He'd also prayed for forgiveness – locking his mother away in a sanatorium had filled him with guilt, even though the act had been for her own safety. It had broken his heart to do such a terrible thing, and the pain was slowly tearing him asunder. Diana Reid was his whole world, and now, she was no longer in his care. He needed a reason to live again.

That prayer was answered, and it was answered rather quickly, too. He landed an incredible job with the FBI, as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. It was a job that enabled him – no, it **encouraged**him – to use his vast stores of knowledge to track down many of the criminals that were plaguing their society. As a federal agent, Spencer fought against various sociopaths, and in fighting against them, he had been captured, tortured, and beaten several times over the span of the last few years. The young man had to admit that it was all worth it, though, because he had also saved many innocent lives by falling victim to those predators in their stead.

Oh, yes. And Spencer got to wield a gun, too! It made him appear, well, badass, for lack of a more appropriate term.

"Oh, come on!" Derek groaned, leaning his forehead against the closed door. "Are you still mad about that comment? I swear, Reid! It was just a damn joke!" It sounded as though the older male were beating his fist – or his head – against the door.

Now, Spencer had to admit that his only prayer was for both of his guests to leave him alone. He had recently bought a new book at the local Barnes and Noble, something that he rarely had time to do as of late. It was a truly fascinating read, but only if he was given the chance to read more than a single paragraph at a time, which was proving to be a rather difficult task whilst sharing a small space with two of the most dominant alpha males in existence.

Yes, Aaron and Derek were both alphas, and he was rather submissive in nature. That still didn't mean that the two of them were allowed to bully him into doing something that he was not ready for at the moment. Spencer shook his head, clearly thinking to himself that this particular word, alpha, should actually be read as A.L.P.H.A. That acronym could stand for **a** **l**arge, **p**owerful, **h**ormonal **a**ntagonist.

Spencer calmly turned another page in his book, scanned the text, and flipped to the next set of pages. The young doctor continued reading, and he ultimately chose to ignore the man that was fuming on the other side of his bedroom door. It might have been funny, had he actually been in the mood to laugh at another of Derek's temper tantrums.

Frustrated, Derek hit his head against the door yet again, and called, "Spencer! I'm serious, man!"

Neither one of the A.L.P.H.A.s appeared to care that they were disturbing his reading, either. It was seriously beginning to bother him, though, and that was very clear in his response.

He rolled his tawny eyes, obviously not believing a word that was being said to him, and sourly muttered, "Yeah, right…"

Derek glared darkly at the wooden door, cursing at it in silence for a moment. "I didn't mean that you _were_ the Virgin Mary!" he grumbled, crossing his arms over his broad chest in a brief attempt to make himself feel more in control of the situation. "I meant that you were _acting_ like a _virgin!_"

_Oh, yeah. That just made it sound __**so**__ much better, didn't it? _He thought, exasperated and a tad peeved at the wording in that sentence._ I may not be the Virgin Mary, but I apparently act like a prudish little girl!_

"Go away," Spencer snapped, annoyed, and increased the volume on his iPod. Beethoven's music now blared through the speakers – well, as much as a classical song could blare through the speakers, anyway…

"Fine," Derek barked through the closed door, and he banged his large fist on the wall outside the small bedroom – his safe haven – as he did so.

With one last huff at his friend's immature actions, Derek turned away from the bedroom door, stomping down the length of the hallway, through the tiny space that served as both the living and dining room, and into the silence of the empty kitchen. There were no more angry words, mutterings, or cursing to be heard from either one of his guests. Thank God! It was quiet – blissfully so. And now, Spencer could continue reading.

_Well, that was pretty easy! _

Spencer narrowed his eyes in speculation at that particular thought, before coming to the blunt realization that it was actually a little _too _easy for him to manipulate his opponent into leaving him to his own devices. The older male was not well known amongst his friends, family, and coworkers for his compliance, and it was incredibly difficult to think that he was incapable of entering the bedroom by force. Derek was a muscular man, and he had played football for a great many years. And Spencer didn't even have a lock on that old door.

Of course, Derek didn't know that, but…

Spencer eventually shrugged the entire matter away with a blink of his large, brown eyes and a shake of his head. He returned his undivided attention to his book, immersing himself within the pages, all of which were crisp, new, and smelled like pine. His eyes flickered quickly over the words written on those pages, taking in every single detail and easily committing it his eidetic memory. This particular work was a biographical account of Fyodor Dostoyevsky, a man that had written numerous novels, short stories, and essays. His personal favorite amongst them was _Crime and Punishment. _

He'd just gotten to the third part of the book, a section that offered a critique and a variety of professional opinions on the famous masterpiece, when the obvious sound of heavy footsteps marching back down the hallway and towards his bedroom door reached his ears. There was a pause, during which time the young man turned to stare at his door with trepidation, and then…

* * *

***Author's Note***

I am an idiot! I've three other stories to work on, and yet, this one decided that it just **had** to be written!

Oh, well. I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter! I'll post the next chapter soon, but only if you guys review this one! :D


	2. Chapter Two: Escape

~ Chapter Two ~

Genius

_I Would Never Pull the Trigger,__  
__But I've Cried Wolf A Thousand Times. __  
__I Wish You Could __  
__Feel As Bad As I Do;__  
__I Have Lost My Mind. _

_It's All Your Fault. _

~_It's All Your Fault,_ by Pink

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**He'd just gotten to the third part of the book, a section that offered a critique and a variety of professional opinions on the famous masterpiece, when the obvious sound of heavy footsteps marching back down the hallway and towards his bedroom door reached his ears. There was a pause, during which time the young man turned to stare at his door with trepidation, and then…**

* * *

The golden handle on his bedroom door twisted sharply to the right, and the door was abruptly thrown open, stopping only at the insistence of the wall. It slammed against the hard surface, though, and the sound made his heart stop for a brief moment.

Suddenly, it was quite obvious to the young genius that making a move to hide from his scary friend would be a very, very bad idea. There was nowhere for him to run. The only window in the room was glued firmly shut because it was old. And it was in desperate need of some repair, too. Escaping through the open bedroom door was not a reasonable option at the moment, either, seeing as it was being blocked by an incarnation of the Hulk. Otherwise, Spencer might have attempted to scurry from the room like a frightened rabbit. That was impossible, though.

Thus, Spencer was effectively screwed – and not in the sense that might make him exceedingly happy to have two attractive alpha males paying such close attention to him, either.

"Hey, Spencer." Derek smiled at the scared young man, before gleefully explaining, "Hotch mentioned that your doorknob was broken, so…" He nudged the old door with the toe of a large, blue sneaker. "I've taken the liberty of removing it for you!"

Spencer whimpered faintly at the evil smile plastered across the lips of his older friend, the sight of which was quickly sending his heart into cardiac arrest. He would admit that the drugs might have been responsible for causing said organ failure at one point, and perhaps even temporary insanity. He'd been clean for two years, though, so it had to be **their **fault. Damn alpha males!

Derek barged through the previously closed bedroom door, grinned down at the young man, and proceeded to throw his larger form down beside him. The large, white mattress that served as his bed creaked in protest of such rough treatment. If his guests had their way, however, the poor thing would be in a great deal _more _pain – and so would he, come to think of it. Damn virginity…

"Watcha up to, Pretty Boy?" Derek asked, staring at him with a mischievous glint in his black eyes. He leaned backwards, bracing himself against the headboard, and wrapped a strong arm around the younger male's thin waist.

There was a moment of silence, in which Spencer debated on whether or not to answer the man with honesty, sarcasm, or an extremely annoying bout of his **useless **information. The latter was always the most enjoyable option because it served to irk the other person; however, taking that course of action would get him into trouble, too. Derek didn't enjoy being taunted, and he had a nasty habit of retaliating with more than words. His groin ached at the mere thought of being subjected to another of those…_punishments._

Thankfully, Spencer was saved the trouble of having to make this rather difficult decision. His other guest had decided to make his way into the bedroom, stepping over the remains of the door as he did so, and promptly seated himself on a nearby chair. This male was just as tall, dark, and handsome as the one sitting beside him, too. Dammit. Why was every single one of his coworkers so freakin' beautiful? It wasn't fair!

The older male stared at the two of them with interest, raised a single black eyebrow at their position – which was misleading in nature – and queried, "What are the two of you doing in here?"

"We're about to have wild monkey sex," Derek proclaimed. And then, he grinned lecherously at his rather willing captive. "Isn't that right, Pretty Boy?"

The captive tried desperately to hide the red blush that was now crawling over his nose. It didn't work, though, so Spencer quipped, "Oh, yes! I love monkey sex…" He rolled his tawny eyes heavenward. "I guess that's my true motive for watching _the Discovery Channel_ so often."

Aaron snorted quietly at that, muttering, "Well, it sounded as though you guys were about to go through the floor." He glanced at the bedroom door, which was now hanging limply from its hinges, and chuckled at the sight. "Or the door…"

"Speaking of doors," Spencer snapped, before glaring darkly at the older male in question. The young man was not very happy at the moment, and his intended victim was going to get an earful, even if he _was_ an alpha. "This is definitely _your _fault, Aaron!"

His friend opened his mouth to protest, but Spencer raised a hand to silence him and angrily continued, "Yes, I know. Derek was the one to kick it open, but y_ou_ are the one that informed him about the broken doorknob." He pointed a finger at him in accusation. "Hence, it is _your _fault!"

Derek snickered at those angry words, in part because he'd just been proclaimed innocent in the act of kicking down the old bedroom door. Oh, yes – it was also rather amusing to see his boss standing there, with his mouth agape, as the young doctor continued to berate him for indirectly mistreating his living accommodations. Apparently, this new development had been the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back, and now, the young genius was quite angry with them.

"You have no right to laugh, either!" Spencer pointed at the older black male, glared at him for a moment, and then released a small groan of annoyance. He whined, "Seriously, Derek! Did you really have to break my door…?"

"It was _his_ suggestion," Derek muttered, before jerking a thumb in the direction of their boss. It was obvious that he was going to do everything within his power to avoid being the target of their vengeful lover. He wasn't stupid – not by any means.

With a sigh, Aaron ran a hand through the thick black hair on the top of his head and retorted, "I said no such thing, Morgan." Their boss was apparently going to blame the other man for the situation, too, and he didn't appear to feel a bit of remorse for chucking him under the bus.

The truth of the matter remained, however, that both of them were considered to be the guilty party in this instance. Neither of them was going to get** anything** from him tonight, and it was probably safe to assume that the two alpha males would be sharing the mattress in the guest bedroom, instead. If the two of them were feeling so damn horny, well, they could just fuck themselves – or each other. Spencer honestly didn't care too terribly much about those little details at this point, so long as the two of them left him alone. He deserved the opportunity to sulk in the relative peace of his own bedroom, thank you very much.

Derek protested loudly, motioning to the broken door and growling, "This was _your_ idea, man!"

Spencer scowled up at bickering males, thinking to himself that the two of them were polar opposites, and that opposites should not be allowed to attract one another. His pink lips quickly twisted upwards in a smug smile, though, upon noticing that the two of them were completely absorbed within their own conversion; consequentially, the two men were oblivious to their surroundings at the moment. Within this, Spencer could see a means of distraction – and a possible opportunity for escape, too. It was time to make a break for it! Yes~!

The young genius reached into the top drawer of his secondhand nightstand, rummaged through the stack of miscellaneous papers for a bookmark, and promptly placed his find in between his current pages. He returned the book to its proper place on his nightstand, gently patted the shiny new cover, and scurried towards the front door of his apartment, intent upon hiding out in the cute café just down the street. And Spencer was going to remain there for the next hour or so, too, because that was the only thing that might keep him from going postal. Damn. He really needed some caffeine right about now, and lots of sugar, too…

Spencer smiled secretly to himself and began to chant a mantra, one that included the answer to all of his prayers. _Coffee, coffee, coffee…! _Of course, he did so within the confines of his own brilliant mind, lest the two bickering males catch wind of his escape.

This young man_ was_ a genius, after all!

* * *

**Author's Note***

I posted this story at the exact same moment that my best friend began singing the lyrics to "What Makes You Beautiful," by One Direction. It made me giggle to think of that in regards to Spencer, even though he's a guy. ;)

Anyway, I hope you guys like this update! Let me know how you feel about it in a review, eh? I'm hoping for about ten or so reviews.


	3. Chapter Three: Territory

~ Chapter Three ~

Territory

_How Can I Decide What's Right, __  
__When You're Clouding Up My Mind? __  
__I Can't Win Your Losing Fight All the Time. __  
__How Can I Ever Own What's Mine, __  
__When You're Always Taking Sides? _

~_Decode,_ by Paramore

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Spencer smiled secretly to himself and began to chant a mantra, one that included the answer to all of his prayers. _Coffee, coffee, coffee…! _Of course, he did so within the confines of his own brilliant mind, lest the two bickering males catch wind of his escape.**

**This young man_ was_ a genius, after all!**

* * *

At the moment, Spencer was standing in the dining room, near the old card table that served as his work desk and, on rare occasions, an actual dinner table. It creaked softly under the weight of a silver tin containing sugar, a cup of coffee, and over thirty different books, including a very rare edition of a science textbook detailing the fascinating findings of Charles Darwin. Those findings could probably relate to his current situation, considering that he and his aggressive lovers were all fighting for dominance – and for the fifteenth time tonight, it seemed!

Spencer paused at that thought, before taking a moment to visualize each of his lovers as a wild animal. In his opinion, Aaron shared many qualities with the wolf, a creature that was more than capable of acting within a large pack, a smaller family setting, or even as a loner. He personally believed that the older male resembled a British Columbian Wolf, most of which were almost as black as the hair on his head, and er…lower.

Yes, Spencer _really_ loved his thick, black hair…

And Derek would probably make a great bear, seeing as the large creatures were generally very gentle creatures, lest a hunter should suffer the misfortune of angering one. He believed that the black male could easily be compared to a Cinnamon Bear, too. The two entities shared the same soft skin tone, a cross between milk chocolate and a warm caramel latté.

He _really_ loved sweet, sugary chocolate…and coffee, too!

Oh, Spencer really wanted some coffee. His hazel eyes flickered in the direction of the entrance to his apartment, staring wistfully at the front door that could be opened with only a simple flick of his thin wrist. That simple wooden door symbolized so many different aspects of his life that he did not seem to have anymore, thanks to his wonderful guests. Like that beautiful sense of peace and quiet, freedom, and – most importantly – copious amounts of **coffee!**

There was an extraordinary loud **bang** at that exact moment, in which the broken bedroom door came crashing into the hallway, along with two very handsome alpha males. The two of them were apparently trying to return the door to its original post, in spite of the fact that the hinges had been busted wide open during that little reenactment of a police raid earlier in the evening.

Thus, Aaron and Derek were much too preoccupied with fixing the old bedroom door to notice that their young lover was planning on vacating the premises in the very near future. The young genius should probably have been in that bedroom with his angry lovers, though, in the hopes of working towards a solution to this stupid fight. Complications would ensure if even a single one of the creatures involved in the situation disappeared from the equation, especially since that creature was an innocent little squirrel. An alpha male might not take too kindly to losing his next meal.

Fortunately, Spencer was well acquainted with survival of the fittest, and he had decided to take the safest route in this instance, which involved the young genius considering the options being suggested to him via his trusty fight or flight instinct. It appeared that the 'flight' portion of that instinct had won, too. Yay!

The young man was now hovering near the entrance to his apartment, much like a ghost might choose to haunt a certain building – in other words, a site bound spirit. Spencer was almost as pale as a ghost, should the invisible entities actually exist, so this description was an accurate one, even though ghosts did _not_ exist on this particular plane of reality, perhaps the one a few dimensions over. The genius paused in consideration, then, realizing that his train of thought was no longer making any sense. Spencer resolved to blame it on the recent lack of coffee.

Of course, that was the real reason for his recent displays of stupidity, like inviting two of the most dominant males in existence to spend the night at his apartment. He was suffering from withdrawal symptoms, but not anything remotely similar to the horrible ones induced by that damn drug, Dilaudid. There was the itching, and the vomiting…and the sneezing! Don't even get him _started_ on the sneezing! It was like suffering through the allergy season without being permitted to take a single Zyrtec. That substance was the truly devil incarnate – the Dilaudid, that is. Not the Zyrtec.

"Hey…" Derek suddenly muttered, glancing around for something that appeared to have fallen to the floor in his haste to get the door fixed first. "Where did that damn screw go?"

Aaron snorted quietly to himself, amused with the wording in that statement, and he immediately leapt at the chance to make a joke at the expense of the younger male. He dryly quipped, "I take it that you have a screw loose, now?"

"Dammit, Hotch!" The black male narrowed his dark eyes at their friend, clearly not finding that remark to be very amusing, and angrily growled, "Quit taking potshots at me, man!" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and gestured towards the guest bedroom. "Or else, I'll get my piece and show ya a _real _potshot!"

The genius pinched the bridge of his delicate nose in frustration, before closing his brown eyes in consideration. Why was he still here, anyway? Honestly, Spencer didn't have a suitable answer to that question, in spite of the fact that it was indeed a simple one. And he was actually capable of solving advanced stoichiometry problems, some of which could be applied to astronomical subjects, should the person care to challenge himself. Spencer did enjoy a challenge.

This, however, was taking it a bit far…

A number of angry words were still being thrown back and forth between the two combatants, neither of which appeared to be willing to admit defeat to the other. Aaron and Derek were both considered to be dominant alpha males, too, and alpha males were not generally capable of being submissive to another person, let alone a male. That was especially true should another alpha be present within their territory.

"I thought that we agreed to share him tonight, anyway!" Derek exclaimed, before slamming a large fist into the wall, seemingly frustrated with the other man once again. "We were gonna do the whole conquer and divide thing, remember?"

Aaron made a small noise of agreement in the back of his throat. "We did agree to do that," he admitted, "but you also claimed that you'd be able to train him to follow our orders, Morgan."

Angrily, Derek gestured to the broken door, which was now resting against the wall at that point in time, and insisted, "I am perfectly capable of trainin' him, ya know! Spencer was just about to give in earlier." He scowled darkly in irritation. "Before someone else showed up, that is…"

The other alpha smiled faintly in response, and Aaron calmly said, "I don't doubt your skills, Morgan." He allowed the corners of his lips to twist upwards into a smirk. "I do, however, doubt that you have the equipment needed to properly train him."

His adversary growled angrily at the insinuation, opened his mouth, and yelled, "Take that **back,** Hotch!"

Of course, Spencer was the owner of that apartment, and he had been for five years, two months, nineteen days, three hours, eleven minutes, and counting; in conclusion, it was _his_ territory that the two alpha males were now having their little pissing contest in. The young genius could only pray to the fickle deities that those idiots kept **it **in their respective pants. He had a nasty feeling that an answer to _this_ prayer was an impossibility, though, seeing as the two of them were nearly comparing sizes at the moment.

"Well, I'm guessin' that _you_ have a few issues in that department, too! I mean, Haley divorced you after – what was it?" He paused in consideration. "Over twenty years of marriage!" Derek snapped at the other alpha male, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was treading in dangerous waters.

There was a pause, in which their boss appeared to be suppressing the urge to strangle the other alpha male – and only barely, at that. Hotch lowered his voice and darkly warned, "Morgan…"

Spencer winced at the dark undertone present in that one word – the name of his older friend, really – and he wasn't even the target! It promised pain to the individual with that name, should he choose to continue discussing that particular subject matter. The only thought that the young genius could actually process at that moment was that someone was about to **die.** And it wasn't going to be Aaron, either.

Nevertheless, Derek continued onwards in his quest for dominance, per the norm. He had never been one to back away from a challenge, or an adversary. The black male thusly straightened his posture, rather than slouching into his preferred position, with both of his shoulders relaxed and his legs spread a little bit farther apart than necessary. It was kinda gangster, or perhaps it was gangsta?

Well, it was something along those lines, anyway. Spencer wasn't very familiar with that sort of informal terminology. He excelled at understanding the complexities of languages and learning their patterns, but the genius had _never_ been able to understand slang, even though it could be considered a language in and of itself.

"You obviously couldn't keep **her** interest, so how would you be able to train and entertain our Spencer?"

Now, Derek was almost as tall as their boss, and there was a positively mulish expression on his face – this was an aggressive stance that he generally displayed in the presence of a dangerous UnSub. It meant that the older alpha male was ready to do battle and protect his territory.

Oh, boy…

* * *

***Author's Note***

Poor Spencer. He just can't catch a break! XD

Well, I'll go ahead and tell you guys that he will finally escape in the next chapter, which will be titled **"Sugar Daddy." ** I'm going to have some real fun with that one! And I can assure you that he'll get his coffee, too. ;)

Please **read and review,** my friends! I'd really appreciate about **15 reviews** or so... *Hint, Hint*


	4. Chapter Four: Puppy

~ Chapter Four ~

Puppy

_I Don't Want to Be Your Prisoner,__  
__So Baby, Won't You Set Me Free? __  
__Stop Playing With My Heart. __  
__Finish What You Start._

_Don't You Know You Drive Me Crazy?__  
__You Keep On Pushing My Love Over the Borderline._

~_Borderline,_ by Madonna

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**"You obviously couldn't keep her interest, so how would you be able to train and entertain our Spencer?"**

**Now, Derek was almost as tall as their boss, and there was a positively mulish expression on his face – this was an aggressive stance that he generally displayed in the presence of a dangerous UnSub. It meant that the older alpha male was ready to do battle and protect his territory.**

**Oh, boy…**

* * *

Angrily, Aaron glared at the black male and pointed out, "Haley might have wanted to get that divorce, but at least the two of us were actually **married** to one another, then!" His expression was painfully blank, like a brand new canvas. "That's more than can be said for _you,_ Mister Hot Stuff…"

His adversary blinked once in surprise, twitched faintly at this last remark, and allowed his black eyes to narrow at the other alpha male. Derek managed to stifle his suspicions, but he still warily demanded, "Have you been talking to my Baby Girl?"

"That is my point exactly, Morgan," Aaron muttered, pinching the bridge of his long nose in frustration. "You are obviously more interested in having a…" He paused briefly, thinking back to her exact words – something about chocolate, perhaps. "…'Flavor Of The Week.'"

Oh, God. Had Agent Aaron Hotchner – his stoic and politically correct boss – really just said something as asinine as that? And Morgan! He was actually baiting the other alpha male into speaking such stupid words! The two of them really were unbelievable…

Spencer sighed quietly to himself, before attempting to ignore his rather questionable choice in lovers – and now, his friends, too. Yes, Garcia was an interesting young woman, and her bright personality was certainly endearing. The young genius always enjoyed entering her little lair, in part because the colorful room was a welcome reprieve from the constant darkness that he and the other agents found themselves drowning in day after day. Garcia had kindly taken the odd boy under her wing, and she'd offered him a safe haven, a refuge from the storm, asylum, and, well…sanctuary.

Grinning, Spencer thought back to one of his favorite birthday gifts from said technical analyst, Miss Penelope Garcia. He treasured that thick black book, perhaps more than his own life. You see, the technical analyst had bought him a (very) special edition reference book, which offered the information in three different forms – in a dictionary, thesaurus, and encyclopedia. Spencer Reid loved words, almost as much as he loved his favorite technical analyst. But Garcia's sense of humor wasn't appreciated in this instance, considering that it was only adding fuel to the fire. At this rate, Aaron and Derek were going to rip each other limb from limb, and soon.

Needless to say, Spencer chose that moment to escape. He began twisting the knob on the front door to his apartment, not wanting to watch the show – even if it was like having front row seats to an episode of Planet Earth. Spencer also loved that show, but watching his lovers kill one another wasn't exactly his idea of a good time…

A pair of dark green eyes suddenly narrowed in his direction, though, apparently sensing that something was now amiss. Spencer succumbed to the primal instincts roaring within his chest, all of which were now screaming that he should make himself scarce – the hungry predator had spotted him! His tawny gaze then flickered towards the open front door, before estimating the amount of time that it would take him to cross the threshold, bolt through the empty parking lot belonging to the old apartment complex, and into the embrace of the night. The young genius made a few quick calculations in his head and came to the conclusion that it would take him exactly six minutes, nineteen seconds, and two milliseconds.

Unfortunately, Aaron and Derek were _much_ faster than little ol' Spencer…

"Don't even think about it…" Aaron warned, pointing a stern finger between the frozen form of his young lover and into the bedroom, towards the bed that he had vacated almost an hour ago.

Again, Spencer voiced a few of his opinions, but this time, he did so whilst their attention was focused upon him, and **only** on him. "Look, I am _not _a pet!" he exclaimed, feeling thoroughly offended. "You can't order me around like some little puppy, Aaron!"

Aaron merely raised an eyebrow at this feisty declaration. His boss chose not to say anything in response to his words, but then again, he honestly didn't have to – it was evident within his eyes, posture, and demeanor that he was still in charge of the situation. Even Derek, the aggressive alpha male, appeared to have relaxed at that moment, if only to give the younger male a false sense of security. Well, that was just wonderful. Aaron and Derek certainly enjoyed playing these games of cat and mouse with him, didn't they? And Spencer was their favorite little rodent, too. Ugh.

The young genius crossed his arms over his chest, choosing to stare down at his argyle socks, rather than up at his friends. "I hate it when you guys do this to me." Spencer pouted at the unfairness of it all, and he angrily muttered, "Damn alphas…" His socks agreed with that sentiment.

Yes, Derek was definitely a large, powerful, hormonal antagonist. That had never been much of an issue, though, seeing as the other agents were kind enough to rein him in on the occasion that his jokes got of hand. But, Aaron was just as bad at times, it seemed. And the two of them obviously **enjoyed** antagonizing him!

"I'm sorry for treating you like a puppy," Aaron responded evenly, "but you need to understand that the two of us are more accustomed to being the dominant ones in our relationships." His green eyes softened a bit at the wounded expression on the younger male's face. "Okay?"

Spencer found this explanation to be strangely comforting, in spite of the condescending subject matter. The young genius had a feeling that it should have affected him more negatively in that aspect, though. He also found it weird that those words were not meant to be demeaning in any shape, form, or manner. This was a very confusing predicament that he had found himself in. Nonetheless, Spencer nodded up at his superior in apparent understanding, because, well, he always understood everything. Except pop culture references, that is…

His other antagonist was not as kind, though. Derek smiled down at the younger male in a rather condescending manner, before ruffling his brown hair back and forth beneath his fingers. "Well, I think that you'd make a cute puppy, Pretty Boy." Then, he gestured to the abandoned bed and commanded, "Sit!"

It was in his best interest to obey; thus, Spencer promptly did as the older black male had so kindly demanded, er...suggested. That did not mean, however, that the young genius had to_ like_ submitting his will to that of an alpha male. As a matter of fact, Spencer did not like it at all. He was not a fan of involuntary servitude, nor was he a fan of voluntary servitude, either. Spencer Reid could even be considered a typical patriotic American – he believed in independence. It was rather unfortunate, then, that he was now being ordered to and fro like a delinquent.

"Good boy!" Derek quipped, patting him on the head and mentioning that it had never been this easy to train his dog, Clooney. The large dog was admittedly a handful, in spite of his special police training.

Aaron turned in the opposite direction and feigned interest in the opposite wall. "I'm going to take a guess and suggest that you might not be a very good trainer, Morgan." These words were said in a nonchalant manner, but it was anything but innocent – Aaron clearly meant this in regards to Spencer, as well. Again.

His fellow alpha appeared rather offended at the implications – yes, again – and Derek angrily snapped, "Oi! I'm not that bad, Hotch!" His lips twisted upwards in a sneer. "You, on the other hand, appear to have had some trouble keeping your wife on a short leash, man."

Oh, well. This obviously wasn't getting them anywhere, now, was it? It was clear that the three of them – and by **three,** he meant Aaron, Derek, and Father Time – were merely talking circles around one another, now. Spencer bit back another sigh. This ridiculous lack of respect for each other was only going to anger the alpha males even further. The resulting testosterone in the air would also smother them at some point in the near future. And Spencer did not want to die as a virgin, so continuing this pointless argument was definitely out of the question, in his humble opinion.

Spencer was still pissed about the door, though, and the young man openly began to question their reasons for breaking his door, the only semblance of privacy that had been available to him in this apartment after their arrival yesterday morning. Clearly, Derek had an ulterior motive for breaking through the old bedroom door, just as Aaron had an ulterior motive for telling him that the doorknob was broken in the first place. The young genius could only determine one _logical _outcome for this situation…

The two of them obviously wanted something from him.

Spencer continued along that same train of thought, and he eventually derived that his guests were indeed very horny. He felt a variety of emotions at that point, the first being bitter betrayal, and the last resembling something along the lines of excitement. It disturbed him greatly that the mere prospect of sleeping with his friends – both of whom were male – could stir such complex emotions within his heart. Spencer might still be a virgin, but the young doctor was also certain that he could have been considered a _straight _virgin at one point in time. Now, he wasn't quite as certain that his tastes could be in anything other than men. That was probably **their **fault, as well.

"How could you tell him that the doorknob was broken, Aaron?" The younger male turned his attention to his stunned boss, whining, "I would have been safe, at least for a little while!" Then, Spencer blushed at the implications in his own words, which were very prudish in nature.

Aaron couldn't suppress a wide grin at that, and it was one of those rare smiles that brightened his entire face, as though he was the happiest person alive at that moment. He crossed the room and sat down beside the young doctor, placing a warm hand on his knee and squeezing the long limb gently. His bright green eyes stared into the delicate face of his younger friend, a face that belonged to one of the smartest, kindest, and cutest young men he had ever known. And Aaron couldn't help but feel that he was so incredibly lucky to be given a second chance at love.

Tentatively, Aaron chose to approach the subject that the three of them were heatedly discussing earlier, before their young friend had decided that his current state of virginity – in other words, intact – was not a proper topic for conversation.

"We aren't planning to force you into anything, you know…" Aaron gently pointed out, and his expression was one of relief as he noted that the young man was nodding in acknowledgement, apparently not thinking along those lines at all.

"We just want to pin you to the bed, preferably with handcuffs," Derek teased, though the last bit was more an afterthought than anything else. It appeared that the older male was concerned that the two of them would have to restrain him, which might indeed be the case. "Fuzzy, pink ones…!"

Apparently, Derek had not learned his lesson earlier that evening. It was not wise to joke with a genius about such serious topics, including masturbation and sex. Making cracks about his state of virginity was also a crime punishable by death. In his eyes, there was nothing even _remotely_ funny about being a twenty-five year old virgin. Actually, Spencer believed that it sucked. No pun intended.

Derek smirked at him, clearly not seeing the warning signs blaring in his dark brown eyes, all of which indicated that he was about to murder the older black male in cold blood. "And then, we're gonna crack your cherry…" To which Aaron admittedly released a small snort of amusement.

Spencer twitched at this crude declaration, having actually recognized the reference within the words for once. He knew very well that this supposed cherry was mentioned in regards to his virginity, and it angered him that Derek still found it so amusing to trifle with his emotions at this point. That man might have a great deal more experience in this matter due to his sexual conquests, but that didn't mean that the young genius was totally clueless, either. It seriously irked him that neither of the alpha males was considering it a possibility that he'd already experimented a little bit with the opposite sex – or even the same sex! He was, apparently, homosexual.

In conclusion, there was no reason for the young genius to restrain himself. He did, however, manage to suppress the almost overwhelming urge to chuck his new book – and the textbook on his nightstand – at their respective heads. Of course, Spencer had never liked to see either of his friends hurt, but the tactless idiots might actually deserve a good beating at the moment. Not that Spencer could possibly win said physical altercation. He was much too weak for such thing to fall in his favor.

After all, Spencer Reid was just a little puppy, and he would **never** be an alpha.

* * *

***Author's Note***

Okay, I might have lied, but it was only a little white lie! So, um, sorry?

Obviously, this chapter is **not** called "Sugar Daddy," and **Spencer did not escape. ** But, I had a bit of inspiration, and this plot bunny would just...not...**die!** I promise that the poor genius will escape in the next chapter, though, which _will _be called "Sugar Daddy." Pinky promise!

**Thank you** all for the awesome **reviews, favorites, and alerts!** And please continue to **read and review! ** I'm hoping for about **23 reviews** or so.


	5. Chapter Five: Savior

~ Chapter Five ~

Savior

_So, I Run, Hide, and Tear Myself Up. __  
__Start Again With a Brand New Name, __  
__And Eyes that See Into Infinity. _

_Just a Moment Away From Being Unclear. __  
__Even Get the Feeling You're Gone?_

_I Will Disappear. _

~_Capricorn,_ by 30 Seconds to Mars

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

I**n conclusion, there was no reason for the young genius to restrain himself. He did, however, manage to suppress the almost overwhelming urge to chuck his new book – and the textbook on his nightstand – at their respective heads. Of course, Spencer had never liked to see either of his friends hurt, but the tactless idiots might actually deserve a good beating at the moment. Not that Spencer could possibly win said physical altercation. He was much too weak for such thing to fall in his favor.**

**After all, Spencer Reid was just a little puppy, and he would never be an alpha.**

* * *

Once again, Aaron and Derek were suitably distracted by the insults that the opposing alpha male was throwing at the other. Poor Spencer really wanted to release a small sigh of exasperation in response to their troublesome antics, but that sound would have drawn a considerable amount of unnecessary attention to him, and he did **not **want to deal with their overprotective nonsense at the moment. He didn't need the two alpha males to stalk him – er, escort him – to his favorite café, considering that it was a mere two blocks away. It was within walking distance, for heaven's sake!

Spencer wasn't going to get beaten or kidnapped, as his record – and medical history – might indicate. Hopefully…

The muffled sounds of their screaming – that was to say, their quiet, and reasonable, and mature conversation – drifted through the small apartment and into the stairwell, thoroughly disguising the sounds of his tentative footsteps as the young man scampered towards the living room. He grabbed a coat and slipped through the front door of his small apartment, shut it quietly behind him, and escaped into the relative silence of the night.

Fortunately, Aaron and Derek were too busy arguing with one another to pay him any mind, and thus, neither one of the alpha males noticed his consequential escape this time around. Thank God for small miracles, right? Absolutely!

With a smug smile, Spencer scurried across the deserted parking lot of his apartment complex, which was entirely silent at this time of night, thanks to the relatively safe neighborhood that he resided within. It was this silence, and that cherished safety, that had encouraged many of these late night escapades. The young genius enjoyed discovering new niches, often building a nest in the university library, the local bookstore, or a twenty-four hour diner. Somehow, Spencer had managed to stumble across a diamond in the rough during one of these little journeys into the darkness.

His smile widened as the young man caught sight of the building. The café was dimly lit at this time of night, as the old streetlight standing at the side of the building was flickering in protest of having to fight against such complete and total darkness. Red and black paint continued to crust, flake, and ultimately fall to the wet dirt beside the cracked sidewalk, signaling that the exterior was in need of some repair. The neon sign hanging from the edge of the building declared it to have been christened _Expresso Yourself. _A few of the bright red lights were broken, however, and the absentminded owner had yet to replace them. For the third time this month, he might add!

Now, Spencer could see that the sign proclaimed this establishment to be _Presso Yourself_, which was an oddly amusing reminder of his predicament. If Spencer wanted sexual release, he would only find it in the palm of his right hand. Masturbation was mildly entertaining and provided a suitable form of sexual stimulation, but he would much rather experience release with one – or both – of his precious alpha males.

Fulfilling that simple desire appeared to be impossible at the moment, though, seeing as the two of them were more interested in screaming at one another. Like most alphas, Derek went for the (er, hopefully figurative) jugular vein during such times. Aaron, as his adversary, preferred to attack the black alpha in a more subtle manner. It still annoyed him, though, because the end result was always the same. Chaos reigned supreme. And Spencer **hated **chaos.

So, Spencer had weighed his options and finally come to a decision – he blatantly refused to deal with their nonsense anymore, and he would not suffer through that round of verbal abuse, even if it _was_ indirectly! The resulting pain was nearly as potent, in spite of the fact that the alpha males were more interested in insulting each other.

The young man stared up at the menu with tired eyes, before resigning himself to the fate of a repeat customer and deciding upon his usual order. He thusly requested a cup of coffee – black, with lots of sugar – and moved to a secluded booth near the back entrance of the café. Spencer sipped at his warm coffee, paused for a moment, and sighed wearily to himself. It appeared that both of his lovers had developed a (rather disturbing) habit of degrading one another, as well as a (painfully frustrating) habit of dragging him into the middle of their little spats. And Spencer, as a sweet and innocent little genius, hated being caught in the crossfire…

Inhaling second hand smoke was even more damaging to a healthy pair of lungs than inhaling it directly from a cigarette or other primary source, you know. And Spencer liked being able to breathe properly and without the aid of a stoma, thank you very much.

He paused once more in consideration, staring into the murky depths of the steaming mug of black coffee that rested between his slender hands – and then, the six empty cups sitting beside him on the old and cracked laminate table. Apparently, Spencer was not quite as willing to forgo the nasty side effects of consuming too much coffee, which yielded a number of problems. This list typically included anxiety, headaches, irritability, muscle tremors, and the expected bouts of insanity – er, insomnia.

Of course, Spencer believed that the true cause for the aforementioned side effects was his being subjected to the domineering – and increasingly perverted – whims of his two best friends, Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan. Damn them for being A.L.P.H.A.s!

Their fighting managed to irritate him beyond all belief, and the resulting headaches usually increased the amounts of frustration pouring through all sixty thousand miles of his veins, and arteries, and capillaries, too. That frustration eventually lead to muscle tremors, during which times the young genius found himself seriously wishing for even a **semblance** of shapeshifting heritage. Like that sexy alpha wolf in those corny vampire romance books, Jacob Black. Then, Spencer the Super Shapeshifter would be able to kick some serious ass! And Aaron and Derek would no longer be able to refer to him as their precious little puppy.

The insomnia, on the other hand, was more than likely a direct result of the poor genius resting on his mattress night after night, desperately trying to ignore the angry creaking of the mattress in the guest bedroom. Spencer didn't care if the two of them were simply jumping up and down on the mattress in a cruel attempt to simulate the sounds of them having sex with one another; the mere thought of that activity, and the resulting imagery that it produced, was more than enough to keep him for the rest of the night.

Spencer whimpered pathetically against the rim of his red coffee cup, using the chipped ceramic mug to stifle the needy sound that was trickling over his pink lips. He really needed to get laid, before the overwhelming pressure in the lower portion of his stomach decided to explode in an unexpected orgasm. The ensuing arrest would be very awkward. And Spencer didn't want to explain to his lovers that he had been arrested for public indecency due to the fact that neither one of them could keep their hands to themselves.

Seriously! Who would be able to sleep if two amazingly handsome men were making love to one another in the next room – and without him, too! God, it was so cruel of them to do that to him. This little sleepover was torture, pure and simple…

A bright voice interrupted his musings, nearing his seat to sweetly ask, "Would ya like another cup o' java, love?"

The brunette male quickly glanced upwards, blinking at the familiar face in surprise. He hadn't expected the Irish woman to be working tonight, because it was very unusual for her to do such a thing on a cold, late, and busy weeknight. She did, after all, have three very young children that attended the local elementary school in the early mornings – it could _not _be healthy for the older woman to work the graveyard shift at the popular café before immediately returning home to tend to the hyper midgets and send them to school.

Spencer smiled gently at the cheerful expression on her face, thinking to himself that it was a miracle to encounter a woman that was this happy, in spite of the difficulties that she'd recently encountered whilst raising a family, all alone. The eldest son, Aiden Junior, had a very bad case of ADHD. Zoe and Malcolm, his siblings, weren't nearly as difficult to handle as their brother, but it still appeared to be a tough job for their single mother to accomplish without her recently deceased husband. Lindsay Black did her very best to support the four of them on her humble salary, though, and it certainly showed in the brilliance of their happy smiles.

His brown eyes glittered with happiness at having sighted his favorite barista appearing so very cheerful, and Spencer politely responded, "Yes, ma'am…" He grinned shyly at the older blonde woman.

"I've told ya time and time again to stop callin' me 'ma'am,' ya silly boy!" Lindsay raised a single eyebrow at the young man in obvious amusement, before shaking her blonde head at him in exasperation. She softly drawled, "You'd think that a genius would remember somethin' like that, ya know!"

Spencer sheepishly ducked his head, allowing a curtain of his brown hair to hide the dark blush crawling across his pale cheeks. He stuttered pathetically for a moment, caught himself, and eventually managed to squeak, "Er, I'm sorry…?" It was an adorable sight to behold.

Nevertheless, Lindsay chose not to comment on his cute stuttering, as it would only embarrass him further. "Well, would ya like anythin' else with that order, my dear?" The blonde offered her younger friend a cheeky grin and quipped, "Or would ya rather drown yer sorrows in the black depths o' yer java?"

The young genius refrained from commenting on those words, though it was more difficult to do at the moment, thanks to the dark thundercloud roaring over his brunette head. Spencer hated being the victim of such feelings, but this dark mood was threatening to engulf him, chew his carcass into itty bitty bits, and spit the remains out like a mouthful of watermelon seeds. But, Lindsay Black did not know that yet, so the least he could do was to refrain from responding rudely to her gentle teasing. He owed her that courtesy – or his silence, at the very least…

After all, Lindsay had actually been his very first friend in this city, and he would never intentionally hurt her feelings. Lindsay Isabelle Black was his savior.

* * *

***Author's Note***

This **chapter** was incredibly long before the final revision, so I **divided** it into **two** different chapters. XD It was previously called "Sugar Daddy Part I." Now, I have renamed it to "Savior," and the remainder of this section will be posted in the next chapter. By the way, I introduced this little minor character, Lindsay Black, because she will play an important role a different part of the story. Don't you just love her nifty little accent? ;)

P.S. **Thanks for all of the feedback, guys! ** I really **loved** seeing so many alerts, favorites, and reviews. This story was made on a whim, but it seems to be doing rather well, don't you think? :D Anyway, I'll be waiting for a few reviews on this chapter - hopefully, **about 30 reviews.** Thanks!


	6. Chapter Six: Sugar Daddy

~ Chapter Six ~

Sugar Daddy

_You Found Me Here, Waiting For Your Chance. __  
__You Would Reach Inside and Take All of Me. __  
__You Watch Your Lies Smother Me Again, __  
__But Now, You Can't!_

_I Turned Around… __  
__There You Are._

~_Wasting Time,_ by RED

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**The young genius refrained from commenting on those words, though it was more difficult to do at the moment, thanks to the dark thundercloud roaring over his brunette head. Spencer hated being the victim of such feelings, but this dark mood was threatening to engulf him, chew his carcass into itty bitty bits, and spit the remains out like a mouthful of watermelon seeds. But, Lindsay Black did not know that yet, so the least he could do was to refrain from responding rudely to her gentle teasing. He owed her that courtesy – or his silence, at the very least…**

**After all, Lindsay had actually been his very first friend in this city, and he would never intentionally hurt her feelings. Lindsay Isabelle Black was his savior.**

* * *

"Lindsay, I'm taking a wild guess, now," Spencer slowly said, and with a soft twinkle in his tawny eyes. "But, I assume that you already know my order…" He smirked in amusement and dryly added, "…by heart."

Obediently, Lindsay began to recite his order. "'Oh, sweet Lindsay! I love your amazin' java, and it would please me to no end to be blessed with even half da cup!'" She batted her black eyelashes at him and purred, "'Please add a _sickening _amount o' crème and sugar to the mix, 'kay?'"

Well, that was not exactly **verbatim,** but it was close enough to the original sentiment that the young genius chose not to correct her statement. Spencer really did worship the ground that the quirky blonde barista walked upon, in part because a bit of that holy ground actually belonged to his favorite café, _Expresso Yourself. _He appreciated the coffee pun, in spite of its tacky origins, and consistently found himself grinning up at the neon green sign every time that he entered the building for a cup of coffee, which was quite often. The name reminded him of that one song written – and sung, terribly – by the famous pop star, Madonna.

And Spencer was not **that** kind of gay man! He definitely wasn't a frivolous fashionista with a taste for men in tights. Of course, Aaron and Derek would probably look really, really sexy in spandex, so…no, no, no! Spencer mentally slapped himself for thinking anything along those lines. It would only cause problems for him, especially since the front of his gray slacks were already tented, thanks to his earlier daydream about the two alpha males happily fucking each other into the mattress every night. So, Spencer would stick to his original story – the young man just really liked Madonna.

Okay, Spencer had to admit that this sounded a little suspicious. Damn. Maybe he really _was _that type of gay man…

"Right…" He admittedly rolled his brown eyes at that terrible impersonation of himself, truly exasperated, and responded, "Anyway, I'll take another order of my usual coffee, please."

Lindsay loudly exclaimed, "Bloody hell, Spencer! You're goin' to give yerself a heart attack one o' these days." She pointed an accusing finger at the collection of empty coffee mugs cluttering the once empty table that the young genius now occupied.

"Actually, that is very unlikely," Spencer interjected, immediately launching into another of his educational rants. "Most heart attacks are the result of hereditary health issues, and some present themselves in the form of coronary artery spasms, which are caused by sudden stress, taking drugs, and smoking cigarettes."

The blonde barista continued to stare down at him in clear disbelief, so the young genius grinned widely and summarized the recited passage in four simple words. He brushed a strand of his brown hair behind an ear and smugly repeated, "Cigarettes, and not coffee, are one of the primary causes of heart attacks!"

"Sod off, Spencer!" Lindsay laughed loudly at his response, before shaking her blonde head and, more kindly, adding, "I'll be right back with another order o' java, complete with four crèmes and…" She wrinkled her round nose in obvious distaste. "…and sixteen spoonfuls o' that wretched junk ya call sugar."

Within minutes, Lindsay had returned with a mug of fresh coffee, which she calmly placed in front of the young doctor. The Irish woman immediately opened her mouth – more than likely in order to tease him once more – before her gray eyes flickered in the direction of the cash register. She smiled widely at the customers, neither of whom the brunette could see at the moment, and waved for them to wait a moment. Spencer didn't want to turn around, because that would be rude, but he'd warily noticed that the soft hairs on his lower arms were standing to attention. That was never a good sign, either…

She turned the majority of her attention to the bewildered genius and exclaimed, "Here ya go, love!" Cheekily, Lindsay winked at him, but ultimately chose to skip through their routine of teasing, flirting, and small talk. "Drink the cup o' java while it's hot, Sugar Daddy!"

Spencer coughed nervously at the sight of the dangerously mischievous smirk adorning her lips, suddenly realizing that the blonde barista was planning something nefarious in nature. The bell above the glass front door twinkled in greeting as several guests entered the establishment, all of them appearing to attend the local college, if their sweatshirts were any indication. Fortunately, Lindsay had to return to the cash register and tend to their needs. Coffee was a necessity, and aptly referred to as the nectar of the gods. All hail Zeus!

Someone snorted loudly in amusement at those teasing words. The name was admittedly an old one, seeing as he had been christened as such over five years ago, only a week after moving into his apartment. Nevertheless, Spencer was very embarrassed that a stranger had heard the blonde barista refer to him as "Sugar Daddy." That nickname could be taken any number of ways, and the young doctor could only hope that this person didn't jump to any hasty conclusions. He did not want to cause any problems for his friend, Lindsay Black – even if it would be a direct result of her silly antics in the first place!

Spencer twitched in irritation, thinking that this evening could not possibly get any worse. First, Aaron and Derek found it amusing to break his bedroom door in two, and then, the two of them began to argue over him, as though he were a prized teddy bear…or a prostitute! Now, Spencer was the butt of yet another horrible joke. And the mirthful exclamation had been made just above his delicate right ear, thusly invading his personal space, dammit!

Why had he deemed it necessary to leave his gun, and his federal identification, back at the old apartment? Oh, right. The two items were resting in the top drawer of his nightstand, by which stood two crazy alpha males, and he hadn't wanted to rifle through the contents of that drawer, as it would catch their unwanted – at least, in that moment – attention.

Otherwise, Spencer would gladly consider shooting this person with said firearm. Bang.

Spencer didn't have that luxury, though, so he turned around in his seat and rudely asked, "Do you need something in particular, mister…?" His tawny eyes widened in recognition, and he paled a few shades of white. "Uh…"

Never mind! This handsome older male gazing down at him with smoldering black eyes was **not **a stranger! Spencer began to panic, admittedly using the yellow coffee mug in his hands a shield of sorts. He raised the scalding hot cup by its thick handle, gulped quietly, and placed it directly in front of his face. Shit…!

"That's interesting," Derek drawled, lazily, and with a very evil smirk crawling across his thin lips. It spelled **doom** for the young genius. "Did that woman seriously just call you that, kid?"

"Lindsay has been my friend for several years, now, and she really enjoys teasing me about my addiction to caffeine," Spencer hastily began to explain, allowing his fingers to circle the rim of his coffee mug a few times to relieve the nerves building in his lower stomach – yes, nerves, dammit! Not an unexpected orgasm…!

Derek's smirk widened marginally, and he slowly leaned forward, nipping sensually at the shell of his delicate ear. The older male darkly purred, "Well, I think that she's been calling you that for another reason entirely." He kissed the young genius on the lips. "'Cause your lips taste really sweet, Pretty Boy."

Spencer sputtered indignantly, as expected, and attempted to shove the older male away from the table. He narrowed two dark brown eyes and glowered angrily at the black alpha male, before demanding, "What the hell, Derek?"

"Come on, Spencer! You can just admit that you liked it, you know," Derek mercilessly teased, brushing a finger over his flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

Suddenly, Aaron appeared at their side, standing a little to the left of his adversary, Derek. The older agent leaned over the edge of the booth and, without a word, placed two smooth lips over his own. He gently began to push his tongue against the younger male's lower lip, demanding entrance at once. Spencer immediately complied with these primitive demands and parted his swollen lips, momentarily forgetting that he was (kinda, sorta, not really) angry with both of his lovers. With a smirk, Aaron took advantage of his moment of weakness and carefully swept the slick appendage into his sweet mouth, exploring the inner caverns at a slow and steady pace. He growled softly in approval, before removing his tongue from within the sweet mouth.

Spencer stared at the two of them, clearly in a daze, and slowly closed his gaping mouth. It shut with an audible click, signaling that he was now in a better state of mind, one with which he could properly function. Perhaps he would also be able to refuse their advances, now...

He snorted in derision. Yeah, right! Fat chance of _that_ ever happening!

At that moment, Derek smiled happily and patted the little puppy on the head, softly cooing, "Hi, Spencer!"

That did it. The young genius slammed his head into the table upon realizing that his lovers had found him – and that his trusted friend, Lindsay Black, had kindly left them at their questionable mercy. Obviously, Spencer was a renowned genius, but the young man appeared to be lacking in the common sense department, so there was only one way that he could truly cope with the weird situation at hand. He continued to beat his skull against the cold surface of the laminate table, in the hopes that it might actually knock some sense into him. In all actuality, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

The genius groaned quietly in dismay and rested his sore forehead against the blissfully cold tabletop. "How did the two of you even find me, anyway?" Spencer warily asked, pointing to their bright surroundings in confusion. "Neither of you should have known about this café!"

Aaron raised an eyebrow in bemusement, clearly thinking that the overdose of caffeine was beginning to affect their young lover; it was killing his brain cells. He smirked faintly and pointed out, "We're profilers, remember?"

A dark blushed of embarrassment stained his cheeks, as Spencer ducked his head and sheepishly muttered, "Oh, right…"

Thankfully, Spencer was saved from further embarrassment, and, consequentially, he didn't have to deal with the stifling attention of either one of his lovers. Each of their government issued cell phones began to vibrate or ring, one right after the other, and the three agents promptly glanced down at their respective hips, in the direction of their protective phone cases. While each phone was a different make, the generic ring tone was the same, and it indicated that the call was being made by someone at the BAU.

After a few moments of confusion, during which the three had to inform the caller – Jennifer Jareau – that each of them was actually in the same place, it was revealed that there was a new case. Rossi, Garcia, Prentiss, and JJ would meet them at the office, as the new case was in this particular state; in fact, the team would be staying within the city limits this time around.

Spencer coughed into the warmth of his large hand and hastily exclaimed, "Well, I guess that we will just have to figure this out later, right?" He quickly placed three ten dollar bills on the table to pay for his coffee – and to tip his favorite barista, too, even if she was a pain in the butt.

"Oi, Spencer!" Derek anxiously called through the sea of noisy voices, trying to wade through the corresponding bodies that blocked the path to the exit. "Come back here, man!" He grunted in annoyance as the young genius disappeared and bolted for the door, using his slender build to his advantage. "Dammit!"

Aaron pinched the bridge of his slender nose in frustration, not even bothering to chase after his speedy little lover, before angrily adding, "Spencer! We haven't finished this discussion yet!"

"Oh, well! We've got places to go, people to save, and bad guys to eliminate," Spencer called over his should, eagerly darting through the door and away from the frustrated voices of his lovers. "See you guys at the office!"

Spencer grinned widely in amusement and commence with his next mission – flagging down a taxi, riding to the office, and, hopefully, avoiding his irate lovers for a few hours. He really loved his job.

* * *

***Author's Note***

**Sorry** about the wait, guys! I managed to finish this chapter last night but did not get to edit it, since my brain was **dead **after such a long shift at work, which was taken only as favor to a friend. He soooo owes me for saving his butt! XD

Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter. **Please read and review, as always. **I'd like about **38 reviews**, if at all possible. And **I need your input**, anyways, since it has to do with the **new rules.** Should I include a **lemon** in this story, or should it remain at a **rating** of T?


	7. Chapter Seven: Heaven and Hell

~ Chapter Seven ~

Heaven and Hell

_I've Seen Enough, Now,__  
__To Know That Beautiful Things __  
__Don't Always Stay That Way. _

_I Hear That Evil Comes Disguised.__  
__Like a City of Angels, __  
__I'm Walking Toward the Light. _

_Now, I'm Trying to Find My Way Back Home. _

~_The River,_ by Good Charlotte

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

"Spencer! We haven't finished this discussion yet!"

"Oh, well! We've got places to go, people to save, and bad guys to eliminate," Spencer called over his should, eagerly darting through the door and away from the frustrated voices of his lovers. "See you guys at the office!"

Spencer grinned widely in amusement and commence with his next mission – flagging down a taxi, riding to the office, and, hopefully, avoiding his irate lovers for a few hours. He really loved his job.

* * *

Atheism was the firm belief that there had never been, was not, and would never be a God. The Almighty did not exist in any shape, form, or manner, and it was as simple as that. This theory also extended to the entirety of all religions, mentioning that there were no gods or goddesses to deliver the rewards or punishments for any good, neutral, or bad actions. Both Heaven and Hell were merely a figment of the imagination, something created to encourage a person to live their life in a passive state of mind, rendering them too afraid to break free of the mold that dictated the silence of the lamb. Freedom was relative.

Such beliefs had firmly attached themselves to the inner workings of his mind from a very young age, so the young genius could easily – and rather proudly – proclaim himself to be an absolutely perfect atheist. Of course, Spencer also believed that perfection was merely a farce, a joke, and a false sense of security. It was even more ridiculous for a person to believe that practice made perfect, as most teachers had insisted during the earliest years of his brainwashing – or rather, education – than it was for them to believe in the omnipotent God.

The young genius hated the education system, because it was the cause of the many long and lonely days – nights, weekends, and holidays, too – that he had spent as a young child. He also greatly disliked the religious gatherings that encouraged people to believe in the existence of an individual that could not be proven by experiments, collections of facts, or simple science. After all, Spencer truly was a scientist at heart.

However, Spencer still had to wonder at times if Fate was gracefully resting atop some mountain in the skies, laughing gleefully at his misfortune. He had derived the corresponding imagery for this peculiar thought from the various images depicted within books of Greek Mythology, most of which included renderings of Zeus, the Father of Gods and Men. Mount Olympus, fictional though it might be, certainly seemed the sort of paradise that a meddlesome female might call home.

Said paradise did exist, but it was actually filled to the brim with colorful pens, whirring gizmos, dozens of soft stuffed animals, and a strangely chaotic collection of Hello Kitty merchandise, too. Fate also had about ten pounds of dyed blonde hair curled atop her head, sparkling hazel eyes, and a wickedly smug smile plastered across two very bright red lips.

And Spencer, even as an atheist, had to admit that Fate did indeed exist. In fact, Fate had this nasty habit of focusing solely upon him and his love life, as manipulating the shy brunette into interacting with his alphas seemed to provide the matchmaker with a sick sort of pleasure.

"Did you enjoy your weekend with the deliciously handsome boss, Batman the Brilliant, and his sidekick, the sexy and totally tasty Chocolate God of Thunder?" Penelope inquired, delivering the words in a rather loud stage whisper. Her blonde eyebrows wiggled up and down in a conspiratorial manner, one that he was oddly jealous of, to be honest.

Spencer allowed his tawny eyes to widen dramatically, thusly perfecting his impersonation of the absolutely adorable Bambi. The young genius pretended to act like an innocent little deer, as everyone often believed him to be, and bleated, "I've no idea as to what you are referring, Garcia."

Snorting, Penelope pointed the tip of her fuzzy pink pen at him and insisted, "Liar! You most certainly do, Junior G Man!" A neon green nail tapped against his suddenly flushed cheeks, to which the blonde female clapped her hands and cooed, "Aw! Did the two of them at least take it easy on you, my precious baby?"

Yes, Aaron and Derek** had** taken it easy on him, all things considered. Their weekend had been rather lazy, comprised only of light caresses, gentle exploration of naked flesh, and sweet albeit passionate kisses. Nothing that Spencer could not handle, virgin though he still remained. That tenderness, though, was partly to blame for his continued state of virginity. Spencer really did want to be tenderly loved by his lovers, of course, but the innocent genius also wanted them to blindly fuck him into oblivion.

His alphas – yes, the two older males definitely **belonged **to him, as he did to them – hadn't been given the chance to do so, though, thanks to their stupid and immature argument over which of them would be the first to actually dominate the young genius. First kiss, first touch, first to enter him from behind…

Now, Spencer had the strangest sensation that he would be torn in two by his dominate alpha males. (No pun intended.) Acting as the primary chew toy for two hungry hyenas was a very dangerous occupation, indeed. Nom nom nom.

Spencer returned his attention to the technical analyst, blushed, and bashfully hissed, "Aaron and Derek were complete gentlemen!"

That was obviously a lie, because there were moments that the three of them had been blissfully lost in one another, drowning in the electric sensation of naked flesh touching flesh. One naked lover pressed firmly between two other sweaty males, all three feeling immensely surprised that their experimentation could feel this good, in spite of the fact that their hesitant foreplay hadn't actually transpired into sexual intercourse.

Thankfully, Penelope was not a profiler, and her amazing observation skills had been dedicated solely to the intricacies of cyber space. There was a very small chance that the blonde female might actually call him out on that little white lie. Well, Spencer could only desperately hope that this was so, anyway.

Said hope was immediately flushed down the figurative drain. "I find that rather hard to believe, sweetie," Penelope deviously chirped, taking the time to quickly examine the tented front of his pants with barely concealed interest.

His pants were indeed tented, thanks to the steamy memories of last weekend, the first day of which had been spent primarily in the guest bedroom. Spencer twitched faintly at the memory of Derek slipping his large hand down the front of his slacks, cupping their young lover with strong fingers and eagerly touching him between his legs for the first time. And Aaron had remained behind him, hugging the younger man to his broad chest as his fingers gently teased two pink nipples with expert hands. The two of them had insisted that touching him first was more important than being pleasured themselves, at least for the moment.

Of course, Spencer hadn't had the heart – or the presence of mind – to argue with them on that matter. Too busy concentrating on the thick fingers wrapped around his length, the teeth scraping across his bare chest, the hands cupping his backside…

Oh, fuck. Literally!

Spencer sighed at the bright glimmer of mischief in her eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and shyly admitted, "For the most part, anyway…"

A squeal of laughter escaped her lips. Excited, amused, and altogether too pleased with herself, Garcia once again clapped her hands together at this juicy tidbit. Spencer resisted the urge to scowl at the older female. Obviously, the blonde analyst was happy for him, so there was no need to ruin the moment, although it would have pleased him greatly to be able to end the unwanted interrogation.

Spencer hated feeling like an UnSub. It made him itch, badly, and he found himself wanting a few dozen shots of Dilaudid, desperate for the powerful drug to be coursing through his vein like lightning. (One more shot, just one more, please!)

"Hello, everyone…"

Speaking of the UnSub, Spencer found that his conversation with the bubbly blonde, and his own desperate struggle with that dark desire (it was there, always there, like a goddamn disease), had been interrupted by the voice of his friend, Jennifer Jareau. The blonde liaison smiled faintly at the two of them, as well the other members of the BAU, the majority of which had followed her entrance into the conference room. Her kind and gentle expression turned serious, however, upon the mention of their current case.

Jennifer Jareau nodded towards the collective group, sighing in regret and murmuring, "I'm very sorry for bringing everyone here on such short notice, but the UnSub in this situation has rapidly been escalating from stalker to serial killer. It needs our attention." She frowned at the thought, apparently bothered by the time that had been wasted, and firmly added, "Immediately."

As a blunt Italian, Dave found that he had the right to begin asking the questions that most of them were too tired to ask at the moment. He stroked his beard for a moment in thought, grunted his annoyance, and curiously asked, "How long has this case been in the hands of the police, JJ?"

"Far too long," JJ replied, thoroughly annoyed, and gestured to the files that had been placed on the table in front of their respective seats. "It seems that this UnSub has been stalking and also sexually harassing the male victims mentioned on the third page for close to two weeks now."

Derek braced his elbows against the tabletop, raising his voice to demand, "When did the killing being, then?" His onyx eyes were staring at the photographs in the manila folder, which Spencer had yet to view. There was something in those eyes that warned him not to do so.

"Approximately four days, if the records are correct." Obviously, JJ was not inclined to believe that the police department had accurate information. This was, after all, the time to save their asses.

And Aaron apparently thought so, too. Their boss raised an eyebrow in disbelief, thinking that this situation was too difficult for the police to handle alone. With dark green eyes, Aaron gruffly added, "I think it's time for the BAU to pay a visit to the Chief of Police."

"It's already been arranged, sir." Pointing to the new phone in the center of the table, JJ said, "I called them about thirty minutes ago, arranged for a center of command to be arranged, and also requested that their boss meet us down at the station." She smirked faintly, then. "His vacation in Hawaii has been cut short, it seems."

Laughing, Emily leaned forward to pat the blonde liaison on the shoulder, silently congratulating the woman on this success. "Now, I'm thinking that this case has its share of photographs and visual documentation, too." Her coal black eyes darted from JJ to the board. "Am I right?"

Dozens of crime scene photographs flitted across the projector screen in response to this blunt statement, proudly displaying the worst of human kind, as though it were merely an art exhibit for the painful, the disgusting, and the grotesque. Fifteen bodies torn apart, their thin throats slit, left index fingers removed, and their genitals harshly dissected. All fifteen of the victims were male, brunette, above average height, and between twenty to thirty years of age, approximately.

Each and every single one of them bore a striking resemblance to their beloved genius, Doctor Spencer Reid.

The room was quiet for a moment, before six pairs of startled eyes darted towards the youngest member of their group. Panic seemed to fuel their movements and words for a moment, before the six of them returned to discussing the case, the other connections – if any – between the victims, and the possible identity of their killer.

The resident genius, however, paid them little to no attention, since his brown gaze was glued to the projector screen before him. Spencer found himself grimacing at the collection of disturbing images, practically sensing the details etching themselves across his brilliant mind. He shivered with the realization that these men, though of different intelligence levels, occupations, choices, and interests, were the spitting image of himself. It was difficult to do, but the – tall, brunette, and young – male managed to stifle his growing fear of this upcoming case.

Even though Spencer had been with this team for almost six years, profiling and chasing after the worst criminals known to man and woman, there were still horrible scenarios in this world that served to frighten him, too. And this, unfortunately, was one of them.

* * *

***Author's Note***

I am so **sorry** for the wait, but a number of things have come up. Work, family, and life in general. I haven't updated any of the other stories I have on here, either. Haven't had the time! :(

But, I will post this chapter for now, and hope that time will allow me to post another one within the next week or so. **Thanks for your patience - as well as the countless reviews, alerts, and favorites!** And I'm hoping for **about 50 reviews** or so. I hope that you all enjoy this one, since it was pretty fun to write. ;) Smut it always fun, right?

**P.S.** For those of you that noticed, Spencer forgot his ID, gun, and etcetera for a reason! You guys sure have eagle eyes, don't you? XD


	8. Chapter Eight: Lock and Key

~ Chapter Eight ~

Lock and Key

_I'll Keep You,__  
__My Dirty Little Secret.__  
__Don't Tell Anyone,__  
__Or You'll Be Just Another Regret.__  
__Hope That You Can Keep It. _

_Who Has To Know?_

~_Dirty Little Secret,_ by the All American Rejects

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Spencer found himself grimacing at the collection of disturbing images, practically sensing the details etching themselves across his brilliant mind. He shivered with the realization that these men, though of different intelligence levels, occupations, choices, and interests, were the spitting image of himself. It was difficult to do, but the – tall, brunette, and young – male managed to stifle his growing fear of this upcoming case.**

**Even though Spencer had been with this team for almost six years, profiling and chasing after the worst criminals known to man and woman, there were still horrible scenarios in this world that served to frighten him, too. And this, unfortunately, was one of them.**

* * *

An irate genius paced through the empty room, walking along the invisible lines that he had marked with his new pair of black and white converse, recently bought on sale from the local Shoe Carnival. His striped laces trailed behind the left shoe, having come undone during the constant walking. Two feet traveled up, right, down, left, and back again. Over and over again, Spencer darted along the four interconnecting lines, as though mentally tracing the various roads, interstates, and main rivers on a map.

Speaking of which, Spencer had to admit that staring at the map pasted on the old cork board – and for over _six hours,_ too – had yielded little results. There was no pattern present amongst the dumping grounds, let alone the sites of the abductions. Everything appeared to be randomized, as indicated by the dozens of mismatched thumbtacks placed sporadically across the map. He wryly decided that it would be more appropriate for the map to retire; otherwise, it would be used only as a pin cushion for the remainder of its life. Ouch.

His phone vibrated from its place at the bottom of his pants pocket. Spencer jumped slightly, then, at the unexpected feeling and sound of his generic ringtone screaming into the silence of the empty office. He reached into his pocket to retrieve the old phone, before flipping it open to reveal the name, phone number, and picture of the caller. That information was not necessary, of course, as the young genius could automatically connect the T-Mobile jingle to Aaron Hotchner, his friend, lover…and boss.

The brunette doctor sighed at the realization – and the fact that his **boss **had left him, all alone, at the bustling police station to decipher the patterns of the killer, by his lonesome. Did Spencer mention that every other agent had been allowed to join the search for the search? Yeah. He was feeling rather lonely right about now. In fact, Spencer had to admit that he still _really_ missed his domineering alpha males, even though he had been abandoned.

Spencer grinned faintly to himself, pressed his lips to the phone so as to be heard, and softly mumbled, "Hey, Hotch…" Because Aaron was still his boss, and the team was on a case. Unfortunately.

"Have you managed to determine the pattern, if any, present between the locations listed in the files?" Hotch immediately demanded – er, nicely asked for – the information.

Annoyed, Spencer rolled his eyes at the blunt greeting, or the lack thereof. "Nice to hear from you, too, sweetie," Spencer snapped, his voice thick with sarcasm and with an irritated scowl glued to his lips.

Nothing, save for the sounds of blaring horns and other noises associated with general road rage, could be heard through the phone. The older male then released two very quick breaths – inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale – before angrily snarling into his own phone. And Spencer had to admit that the sounds of the harsh panting reminded him of the wolves typically featured on the Discovery Channel. His boyfriend had the part of **"British Columbian Wolf"** down to an art. Like Picasso.

"We do _not_ have time for pleasantries, Reid!" Hotch angrily barked, thusly reinforcing his impersonation of the angry wolf that Spencer had thought of. "Your life could be on the line with this one." A shaky breath shuddered through the phone. "For the thirteenth time, I might add!"

Spencer barely resisted the urge to tell his lover that the number thirteen was considered unlucky in many cultures, including their own, and instead barred his mouth against the flood of random information threatening to escape its confines. Several details came to mind regarding each one of the thirteen disciples present at the Last Supper. There were also thirteen animals mentioned in the original Zodiac, before the removal of the cat, anyway. Poor little kitten had been thrown aside. Just like Spencer.

The angry young man removed the cell phone from his shoulder, glaring down at the tiny device with dark brown eyes. He sighed, then, feeling hurt at the harsh words and insinuation. "The only connection between the listed sites is the epicenter of the dumping grounds," Spencer muttered, almost petulantly. "Nothing else."

"…_crackle, crackle_…" His response, it seemed, was merely this soft, broken hissing noise, the likes of which indicated that the connection between Hotch and himself had been lost. "…_click._"

With a sad smile, Spencer shut the silver flip phone to avoid hearing the electronic female voice informing him of the other person ending the phone call. He did **not **need to know that Aaron had willingly decided to end the call, rather than speak to his boyfriend for even a moment longer. Confirming his worst fears would only add to them.

Were Aaron and Derek ashamed of him – too disgusted with their relationship to mention it to anyone outside of their little threesome? Spencer wasn't the most handsome or social creature around, but…he still tried to be perfect for **them.**

Pain blossomed within his chest at that last thought, burning intensely. Aaron and Derek had stubbornly refused to inform anyone of their relationship with the younger genius. None of their friends had been told of their secret rendezvous, save for the famous chatterbox, Miss Penelope Garcia. And Penny had to figure it out for herself, too.

Honestly, Spencer was relatively surprised that the blonde analyst had found the inner strength to keep their secret with sealed lips. He'd thought that the older woman would immediately squeal to her boyfriend, Kevin. And then, the two of them would begin spreading rumors concerning his new romantic relationship with her "Chocolate God of Thunder" and "The Boss Man." Nobody else knew, though.

Of course, Spencer realized that this was probably for the best, because the Bureau would be in an uproar – and for a number of (justifiable) reasons. The three of them were gay, after all, and apparently interested in maintaining their polyamorous relationships with one another. Aaron, Derek, and Spencer were on the same team, too. (No pun intended…?) Such fraternization would be frowned upon.

His heart still ached at the fact that their relationship had to be kept a secret from the others, though, as the people on their team were wonderful friends. In fact, Spencer and his two lovers would even admit to considering the five of them – David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, and even Kevin – to be an extension of their own families.

Why did his family not want him to come along for the ride, then? Spencer could help them find the killer! He had several noteworthy skills, even if holding and shooting a gun was not amongst them. Surely being able to read the street signs and the map counted for _something! _Spencer, as a genius with those awesome degrees from Caltech, really **could **understand the intricacies of the confusing pattern concerning each of their victims. There were just two or three small details that had managed to escape him at the moment. That's all!

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose in between two thin fingers, thinking to himself that it might finally be time to send the Director his letter of resignation, or else find himself another job. Joining one of those famous Think Tanks might be fun. He could find the cure for cancer, research genetic manipulation, and then, the brunette doctor might get to retire in a year or two.

Upon thinking that, Spencer gently slapped himself on the cheek in reprimand. He promptly whirled around and stomped back to the scarred cork board, intent upon making himself at least somewhat useful to his team. The sole connection between the sites had been in its epicenter, as he had mentioned during the phone call with his boyfriend – no, his **boss,** Hotch. In the center of those stomping grounds were two strip malls, four factories, two restaurants, and a small mattering of residential housing units. Nothing else seemed to stand out in regards to the epicenter.

Tawny eyes stared at the streets lining the map, wandering over a section of residential housing and easily finding the lot that rested beneath his apartment complex, which had been built over sixty years ago. He snorted quietly to himself after noticing that the printed copyright date in the left hand corner of the paper indicated that the map was approximately the same age. Sixty years old, right? This map was seriously outdated!

Spencer paused and cocked his head to the side, like the little puppy each of his boyfriends seemed to believe him to be. He began considering the map in a new light, one that appeared above his head in the shape of the ol' figurative light bulb. Outdated…?

Frowning, Spencer turned his attention back to the epicenter, gazing at the seemingly random pattern with wide brown eyes. A startled breath of hot air rushed through his lungs and into the world around him. That was impossible! At the epicenter of the activity rested one small – and incredibly familiar – building, otherwise known to the public as _Expresso Yourself. _He hadn't recognized the building, however, because this particular map was so old and the café was a restaurant at the time!

Everything suddenly fell into place, including the desperate affection with which his long time friend, Lindsay Black, had directed him for the last few weeks at their café. The images of her husband, with his brown hair, thin build, and the wedding ring upon the ring finger of his left hand appeared within his mind.

Jared Black had died in an accidental car accident two weeks ago, though, right?

* * *

***Author's Note***

Um... *Sheepish Grin* ...hi?

Again, I'm **sorry** for the wait! Has it really been an entire month? Sheesh...

Anyway, I hope you like the update, which is more like a** filler** than anything else, to be honest with you. XD I will be **updating this weekend,** for sure, and **sooner** if the reviews come quickly. ;) You can expect the **next chapter** to involve the case, the killer, and Spencer! Will **he be kidnapped and tortued?** *Pause* Well, it is Spencer, so... ;P

**Please review, my wonderful readers! **I'd like about **57 reviews,** if at all possible. And** thanks **for the** continued support! ** :D


	9. Chapter Nine: Sinner

~ Chapter Nine ~

Sinner

_I Wonder, If I Will Ever See Your Face Again.__  
__And I Know That I Will Find A Way To Shed My Skin.__  
__It's Simple; I Know That I Will Suffer In the End._

_Forsaken, I Live for Those I Lost Along the Way.__  
__And I Can't Remember How It All Began to Break._

_I'm Cold And Broken._

~_Fade Away,_ by Breaking Benjamin

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Frowning, Spencer turned his attention back to the epicenter, gazing at the seemingly random pattern with wide brown eyes. A startled breath of hot air rushed through his lungs and into the world around him. That was impossible! At the epicenter of the activity rested one small – and incredibly familiar – building, otherwise known to the public as _Expresso Yourself. _He hadn't recognized the building, however, because this particular map was so old and the café was a restaurant at the time!**

**Everything suddenly fell into place, including the desperate affection with which his long time friend, Lindsay Black, had directed him for the last few weeks at their café. The images of her husband, with his brown hair, thin build, and the wedding ring upon the ring finger of his left hand appeared within his mind.**

**Jared Black had died in an accidental car accident two weeks ago, though, right?**

* * *

Sometimes, Spencer really had to question his judgment, which appeared to be lacking, even at the best of times. Take this moment as a prime example. The lanky brunette had discovered the truth about the mysterious serial killer lurking in their neck of the woods, so he'd decided to take matters into his own hands, in order to prove to the rest of the team that even a silly genius was capable of helping to protect the innocent civilians and his precious people. Too bad his damn badge and weapon were still back at the apartment. In his dresser drawer. Not here.

Oh, well! Grabbing his blue sweater vest and darting towards the nearest policeman, Spencer had beguiled the man into thinking this situation an emergency – because it was, to some extent. The brunette had borrowed the nearest unmarked police cruiser and driven towards his favorite haunt, then, a café known by the local community to be the best place for late night snacks and the best coffee in town. College students were especially fond of the cozy establishment, as it was open at all hours, and it provided a gentle atmosphere in which to study, eat, drink, and socialize with friends.

Needless to say, Spencer had found it rather strange that the café had been deserted at this time of night. Midnight was prime time for _Expresso Yourself. _Most students were just now arriving to fill their tanks with coffee – extra sugar, please – and cram in a few extra minutes of studying for the early morning set of classes. Calculus and Microbiology were not easy to survive, after all, without _at least_ a pot of coffee in tow. The only alternative would be to guzzle two dozen energy drinks. Red Bull would give them wings and, with any luck, passing grades, too.

Not a soul, however, was within sight. He paused upon realizing that there would be trouble ahead, considering all of his options and thinking on the fact that this serial killer might be hiding within the safety of the café. And Spencer scowled lightly at the thought, because this small café belonged to **him.** _Expresso Yourself_ had been, and always would be, **his** safe haven. It pissed him off that there was some strange, cruel, homophobic jackass hanging around his favorite haunt.

And Spencer, of course, had this habit of rushing headfirst into situations that positively screamed danger, in spite of the fact that the young man was a genius. It was one of his many weaknesses, this penchant for flirting with disaster. Just look at his relationship with Aaron and Derek! The two of them were incredibly dangerous alpha males, and he was merely an innocent, weak puppy. Spencer obviously liked flirting with disaster, danger, and the like, because the genius had been and out of the hospital at least three times a year since joining the FBI. He thusly earned that reputation around the BAU for getting himself into trouble. Voila!

This time was no different. He had recently found himself in a rather humiliating experience – possibly the most humiliating of his lifetime, come to think of it. The brunette was now strapped firmly to the cracked, laminated table belonging to the booth that he had chosen to occupy on a weekly basis for the last six years. Spencer quietly cursed himself for being a creature of habit, tugging on the myriad of duct tape, rope, and metal chains that linked him to the metal railing beneath the yellow bench seat. Like a sacrificial limb about to be, well, sacrificed to God.

Huh. God might come in handy right about now…

Spencer bit his lip, closed his tawny eyes, and began muttering words written with various passages of the Bible. Yes, Spencer was a sick hypocrite. Even as an atheist, the young man still found himself praying for a miracle. No such luck. And, as an atheist, it did not surprise Spencer too terribly much that his wish had not been granted. God was not a genie, after all.

"You are rather quiet." The male voice was soft, almost gentle in cadence, and deceptively so, at that. A calloused hand traced the outline of his pelvis through the thick material of his brown corduroys, before tapping once on the button above his zipper. "And I had thought that you would surely be a screamer, too…" He sounded almost disappointed.

His throat became scratchy and dry at that last comment; thus, Spencer had to swallow the sudden lump that rested within his voice box in order to mumble, "My boyfriends claim that I have to be seriously fucked for that to happen…" Pause. "…in a figurative sense, anyway."

Thankfully, Spencer had been gagged, and the words were indistinguishable from the coughs that suddenly wracked his lanky frame, due to the nasty taste. A small piece of thick cloth – the torn remains of tube socks, perhaps – had been balled up and stuck in his open mouth. It stifled the sounds of his voice, and his soft screams, too. The (hopefully, albeit doubtfully) clean tube socks had been placed there by his captor in order to muffle the aforementioned panicked screams for **help **that had ripped themselves from his throat, almost instinctually.

On another note, being gagged made it difficult for him to hide the tears streaking down his pale face, a sign of weakness that he could not afford to show in front of the disturbed individual that had captured him. The white cloth wrapped around his brown eyes, however, was another story entirely…

As if reading his mind, the other male lightly slapped his cheek and sternly ordered, "Do not, under any circumstances, remove that blindfold."

Spencer slowly nodded his head in the affirmative, as it was not actually possible for him to speak the words aloud at the moment. The young genius didn't really care about being degraded in such a manner, however, because he was much too busy attempting to cope with the resulting feelings of shame and disgust burning in his stomach. Each of the former emotions, of course, had erupted within him due to the fact that Spencer had been kidnapped **yet again. **

Per the norm, Spencer could only remain seated and stare at the ceiling, helplessly waiting for one of his team members to figure out that he had (stupidly) left the station. Would someone, anyone, care to help him? The sooner, the better, in his honest opinion…

"Now, I would like to introduce myself, Dr. Reid." The mysterious man leaned forward then to formally clasp his hand between his both of his own, shook the limb, and declared, "My name is Eric Wilkerson."

He would have gaped at the man, given the chance, but the blindfold prevented him from doing so. Tawny brown eyes could only stare blankly into the manmade darkness, feeling blind as a bat. Spencer had to disagree with that old phrase, though, because most bats weren't actually blind, per se. Bats could navigate through the dark nights with sonar, whereas he, Doctor Spencer Reid, was still chained to the table, left to rot in the darkness of the café.

Spencer would have loved to turn into a bat, like a vampire, and take off into the shadows of the night. Too bad Dracula and his evil minions didn't actually exist in the real world, right? Absolutely not! Because Spencer already had to deal with too many psychos, anyway.

"'Luke, I am your father,'" Spencer stupidly quoted, feeling too shocked to do anything else, save for reciting that pointless quote from _Star Wars._ His voice was muffled, however, and it merely sounded like – "'Fwuck, Eh ham yer fwatter.'"

Yeah. Smooth. Sounded exactly like Darth Vader, didn't he?

His captor snorted quietly, and Eric Wilkerson darkly muttered, "You really shouldn't try to talk with your mouth full, my dear Sinner." That sounded like a nasty insinuation, given the situation, and the name-calling was completely unnecessary, too.

Angrily, Spencer raised his head and snapped, "Fug hyou!" To which Eric laughed, clapped his hands, and shook his head with glee.

Dammit! Spencer hated being gagged, even more so than he hated being blindfolded. He hated many aspects of life, including being forced to clean his plate of its three serving of vegetables. Following that strange train of thought, Spencer figured that he hated being gagged almost as much as eating broccoli, which was quite a bit, as a matter of fact. Broccoli had immense nutritional value, though, as most green vegetables did. The nasty – er, tasty and incredibly nutritious – green vegetable provided its consumer with many protein and vitamins, a fact that his mother had not failed to remind him of at every…single…mealtime.

In spite of this, Spencer blatantly refused to eat the nasty, green plant, pointing out that most kids his age despised broccoli, and more than likely with good reason, too. Even the thought of his having to eat broccoli made him want to vomit. Or was that feeling of needing to retch being caused by the tube socks still lodged firmly in his mouth? Hmm…

His captor calmly interrupted his musings to add, "And I do not wish to see your pretty brown eyes, either, or else there will be a great deal of pain in your future." There was a small pause, quickly followed by the grating sound of wooden table legs roughly scratching against the cement floor – moving closer and closer and closer to him. "Understood?"

Another nod had been made in response to this question. Meanwhile, Spencer was in another world entirely, one that the other members of his team affectionately referred to as "The Dark Side," due to the fact that his plans often involved methods of questionable legality. As a genius pursuing a degree in law, though, Spencer understood the nature of loopholes. He had also been taught to recognize these little details almost immediately, and he began to catalogue the various sounds traveling to his brain via the canals within his sensitive ears – wood, chair, cement. Not to mention the painfully obvious **thud **of his knife landing in the table, right beside his crotch.

Oh, shit. The young man mentally reviewed those words, before it occurred to him that his captor had barely concealed the threat – and the nasty promise – within those words. One only had to read between the lines to figure that this man was about to torture him to within an inch of his life. And then…

Eric Wilkerson was going to kill him.

* * *

***Authors' Note***

I had planned to update this Saturday, but I was called into **work** to cover a shift for two other employees. And Sunday, I slept, and read, and watched TV. In other words, I was being super lazy! XD Here is the new chapter, though, and hopefully, everyone likes it. I am actually quite proud of this one. ;)

**Please read and review, my darling readers.** And I would appreciate about **64 reviews, **give or take. **In the review, I would like you to answer the following questions, if you are up to it...**

**1) ** Should I **Skip the Scene** With Spencer Getting Beaten To Within An Inch of His Life,

**2)** Should **Eric Black Die** At The Hands Of The Team, Or the ALPHAS?

**3)** Will You Kill Me If I Keep This **Rated T,** AKA: No Lemons?

Thanks, ladies and gentlemen! ;)


	10. Chapter Ten: Monster

~ Chapter Ten ~

Monster

_I Have A Name, __  
__But I've Been Changed. __  
__And Now, I Can't Stay the Same._

_The End Is Where We Begin.__  
__Where Broken Hearts Mend __  
__And Start to Beat Again._

_Like Angels Singing With A Million Voices…_

~_The End Is Where We Begin,_ by Thousand Foot Krutch

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**"And I do not wish to see your pretty brown eyes, either, or else there will be a great deal of pain in your future." There was a small pause, quickly followed by the grating sound of wooden table legs roughly scratching against the cement floor – moving closer and closer and closer to him. "Understood?"**

**Oh, shit. The young man mentally reviewed those words, before it occurred to him that his captor had barely concealed the threat – and the nasty promise – within those words. One only had to read between the lines to figure that this man was about to torture him to within an inch of his life. And then…**

**Eric Wilkerson was going to kill him.**

* * *

Time slowly faded into nothingness, as though the billions of stars in the night sky had fallen from the Heavens and down to the ground below, like tears trickling down his pale cheeks. And Spencer could feel them brushing against his ghostly pale skin, too. Those beautiful stars were gently slipping down his forehead and along the side of his swollen face, leaving trails of blue fire in their wake. Slender fingers twitched, and he attempted to reach upwards to wipe the stardust from their perch at the end of his long, black lashes.

Brown eyes opened hesitantly, his lashes fluttering in an attempt to clear the burning stardust from his gaze, which flickered briefly against the bright light surrounding his broken form. The Angels spread broken wings in the shadows of the Pearly Gates and giggled with happiness, their melodious voices calling him back home, home, home. **Come home!**

He blinked twice in quick succession, stiffened, and bit back hysterical laughter at the imagery that awaited his (much too) curious gaze. Beautiful Angels had metamorphosed, shedding their white sundresses and donning horns, black leather, and whips. Sirens shrieked, flashing fangs of crystal white, and darted towards his naked form. Restraints – or rather, whips – were wrapped around his bruised wrists and ankles, binding him to the linoleum table with ease. Teeth buried themselves deep within the tight muscles of his thin neck, feasting upon rich, crimson blood and crunching bones between aching jaws. Claws harshly ripped his thighs apart, parting the shaking limbs and revealing every inch of him to the world.

This was…

**Hell.**

"Ah, I did not think that you would awaken again, my sweet Sleeping Beauty," Eric Wilkerson purred softly, and his honey sweet voice unceremoniously ripped the brunette from his horrid nightmares.

No response was made on the part of the young genius, because he had been shocked to realize that this ma was slowly touching him, running fingers, hands, and tongue up and down his chest and lower stomach. Ten thick fingers traced the shallow dents of his hip bones, paused, and then circled his belly button, before twisting themselves around and around his naked manhood. Like Black Widows weaving a web of lies and endless pain.

_Why, then, did this feel so goddamn __**good?**_

Confused, Spencer sobbed against the cloth still resting in between his lips, those rusty feelings of _shame_ and _disgust_ and _regret_ rushing to the surface in an eruption of release. And God! He wanted to rip all of these chains from his chest, spread his white wings, and fly into the golden sunset with his sweet Angels at his side. Once Upon A Time, Happily Ever After, The End.

"I missed this – the love and blood, I mean. The pain," Eric murmured, with his fingers wrapped tightly around the black handle of the horse whip dangling from his hands. He smiled gently at the frightened glow of those brown eyes, so very similar to – "Am I right, Jared Black?"

Jared. Black. Jared Black. Those two small words, spoken in a single, desperate breath, sounded to him like the tormented screams of the Damned, thrusting their claws into the chests of their foes without mercy or care. The Archangels were vanquished, then, their holy swords of light falling to the ground with the thunder of metal and shattering glass. Spencer stared blankly into the cloud of dust and debris left in the wake of their death. His Angels, Aaron and Derek, had been the figments of his overactive imagination, it seemed. Neither of them truly existed.

And God did not exist, either.

**He was all alone…**

Faster than a strike of lightning, Eric lost every ounce of his control, and snapped into another personality entirely – from benign to bloodthirsty. The blonde male slapped him across the face and angrily roared, "Do I look like the merciful type?"

For once in his short life, Spencer did not know the answer, and to a seemingly simple question, too. This simple question was actually hypothetical, however, and the genius was spared the humiliation of stupidly stuttering dozens of literary quotes and mathematical facts to hide this horrifying shortcoming. Statistics had always been his forte, after all. Being unable to recite them, verbatim, in response to this question made him the disgrace. Not Eric. Never.

Indeed, Eric the Enraged ignored all of his own shortcomings and began beating his fists against the thin chest of his captive, once, twice, thrice, and into infinity. _Aaron, Derek, Aaron, Derek, Aaron, Derek. _Spencer sighed softly at his failure and, in repentance, willingly accepted the reprimand. The brutal beating…

Heavy hands, like that of Atlas, beat a steady rhythm against his broken ribcage. Blood spurted from between his parted lips, and hot breath bathed his face in a wave of heat and hatred, making it difficult to breathe. Medusa ripped through his tender skin with razor sharp claws. One rough finger, covered in cobwebs and laced with poison, slowly slipped between his parted legs and towards his entrance. Spencer jerked backwards at this foreign touch and began thrashing wildly, pulling at the chains and kicking his skinny legs against the table. He screamed.

_**No, no, no, no, no, no, no…!**_

Blue eyes glittered with barely concealed pity, the only sign of the empathetic human that existed beneath the surface of this monstrous creature. A flash of realization, and then, Eric returned to normal – well, his normal, anyway. "Answer the question, you stupid bitch, slut, whore!"

In response, Spencer whimpered quietly to himself and shifted his form to the left, closer to the pink plastered wall and farther from this monster with blonde hair and blue eyes. Mere inches separated his trembling form from that of his captor, the Fallen Angel with horns and endless wings of midnight black scales. And Spencer could not help but fervently wish that this space would magically become yards, miles, and kilometers.

The Devil smiled tightly, baring his perfect teeth in a smile that promised nothing but broken bones, bruised skin, and red blood painting the walls around them. Leonardo Da Vinci, Georgia O' Keefe, and Vincent Van Gogh would stand alongside his teammates and brush their trembling hands over a work of true art, this deadly masterpiece created with human flesh and blood. All would examine a crime scene, a mystery, and the final resting place of Doctor Spencer Reid, marred by white lines and yellow police tape. **CRIME SCENE. DO NOT CROSS. HA, HA, FUCKING HA! **

_Inches, Yards, Miles, Kilometers. __**Inhale **__and __**Exhale.**__ Inches, Yards, Miles, and Kilometers._

"Do you really think that I have forgiven you?" Eric continued to curse and rant and bellow his questions, one after the other, and the night was stained with his jealous rage. Green, black, and red.

Spencer, in a small fit of insanity, opened his mouth and stupidly responded, "No." His pink lips twisted into that small, knowing smirk of the smug genius within. "And I doubt that you ever will, either."

Beyond pissed, Eric cracked the leather whip against the soft flesh of his lower belly, just above his groin. "You, Jacob Black, are the man that made love to me with such tenderness, and then threw me away, like garbage, filth, waste." He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of tears. "You returned to my miserable daughter at her beck and call!"

This love story was one of beautiful clichés, and it was older than time itself, too. Love and hate, benevolence and jealousy, man and woman. Every detail poured from within the blackened soul of this lovelorn man, whispering to the wind this story of discovery, affairs, and betrayal. And Spencer, though lost in a whirlwind of emotions, listened with rapture to this strange tale of Romeo and Juliet. Perhaps Hamlet and Ophelia. Or…

…**Beauty and the Beast?**

In the last decade, Jared Black had married his wife, Lindsay, and the two of them had three beautiful children together, one of which was named after his father. Several years passed and the family was still happy. Jared, however, came to the realization that his love for his wife was not romantic in nature; it had become brotherly, instead.

Spencer could not help but laugh in amazement as each of the final pieces was dropped into place. These simple words, though spoken in anger, began haphazardly filling the empty holes in a puzzle of twists and turns that his brilliant mind had not been able to create with facts, data, and statistics alone. Countless questions were answered, then, and the brunette could only close his tawny eyes, cursing the brilliance that overshadowed his common sense. Ignorance was bliss. And Spencer had wanted to believe that his friend had been forced to feel such pain.

_Poor Lindsay…_

Jared had gathered the courage to speak of the matter with her father, Eric. Instead of being angry and disgusted with his homosexual son-in-law, however, Eric smiled at his good fortune and seduced the handsome marine. The two became lovers, until the point in time that Lindsay realized the nature of the relationship between her father and husband. She threatened Jared with divorce should he not return to her side that instant and repent his sins in the eyes of their Holy Father. Ever the faithful Catholic, Jared complied with her wishes and broke the relationship with his lover. The End.

Eric Wilkerson, as expected, was absolutely _furious _with the cowardice of his lover, a son to him through this marriage to his daughter. He could not see passed this betrayal lured the younger male to his ranch, their sanctuary and the start of it all. This, too, was where it ended…

That fateful day of betrayal, despair, and murder had occurred two weeks ago, and the death of the strong marine was staged to appear as a car accident to fool his wife, his three children, and the (nosy, much too nosy) authorities. In all actuality, however, Jared Black died at the hands of this monster, bloodied and broken and bruised by countless horse whips, all borrowed from the stables behind the country style house. Treated like an animal. **Murdered.**

Fifteen bodies later, and Eric Wilkerson was still ranting and raving about that cowardly traitor – and mourning the loss of his lover, as well. He sought his lookalike in the faces of hundreds of nameless strangers, brunette, young, and tall. Wings of black fire were unfurled, hiding the demon lurking beneath the smiling face of the handsome man.

Fifteen innocent men were seduced and lured to that ranch, that house, and their sanctuary of love and affection. Blue eyes were wide with the realization that none were who he wanted them to be. Furious, Eric tortured each of these trespassers, slitting their delicate throats, gutting them and brutally removing a section of their genitals. He severed their left index fingers from their bodies, secretly treasuring the dirty golden rings left in the wake of their traitorous betrayal. Fifteen golden rings glittered against the bare skin of the monster with blue eyes. Fifteen.

Spencer Reid.

**Sixteen…**

* * *

***Author's Note***

Hello! I would like to **apologize** for my lengthy absence from FF, but there was a death in the family. My cousin, a smart and talented young woman, died in a car accident. It left me confused, depressed, and, well, kinda empty inside. :(

I did not feel like writing again until just recently, which is why I **updated** my other story, _Picking Up The Pieces. _Now, I am updating the rest of 'em! **Two down, and two to go! ** ^^; Ha, ha, ha...

Anyway, **I would love to hear from everyone again**. And I will certainly respond to all previous reviews momentarily! **May I kindly ask for about 80 reviews, then?** Because I did decide to up the **rating to M** and **add lemons** later in this story. I think that I deserve some reviews for that! Or at least a cookie... **;)**


	11. Chapter Eleven: Broken Angel

~ Chapter Eleven ~

Broken Angel

_Say Goodbye, As We Dance with the Devil Tonight.__  
__Don't You Dare Look At Him In the Eye, __  
__As We Dance with the Devil Tonight._

_Trembling, Crawling Across My Skin,__  
__Feeling Your Cold, Dead Eyes, Stealing the Life of Mine._

_Here I Stand, Helpless and Left for Dead._

_Hold On, Hold On…_

~_Dance With the Devil,_ by Breaking Benjamin

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Fifteen innocent men were seduced and lured to that ranch, that house, and their sanctuary of love and affection. Blue eyes were wide with the realization that none were who he wanted them to be. Furious, Eric tortured each of these trespassers, slitting their delicate throats, gutting them and brutally removing a section of their genitals. He severed their left index fingers from their bodies, secretly treasuring the dirty golden rings left in the wake of their traitorous betrayal. Fifteen golden rings glittered against the bare skin of the monster with blue eyes. Fifteen.**

**Spencer Reid.**

_**Sixteen…**_

* * *

Night crawled through the broken glass window and covered his lanky form beneath layers of _white snow_ and **black silence. ** Spencer smiled softly at the familiar darkness, waiting patiently for the pressure against his (bruised, broken, shattered) bones to lessen with the falling of ice and snowflakes. Sharp icicles ripped into his tender skin, yet he could not feel the pain of the blood rushing through the wounds. Numb, Spencer remained within the clutches of the blizzard, his broken body slowly becoming cold and stiff and frozen. He was a corpse. **Dead** to the world.

"Come, I have you now, my sweet Angel." Fingers crooked, Death beckoned to him with sweet and bitter sour words. He smirked darkly and crooned, whispering of hollow promises, white lies, and Shakespearean tragedies to the angelic brunette. "Join me in the fiery pits of Hell!"

Sluggishly, Spencer blinked his eyes open, the motion seeming quite foreign to him at this one moment, and he worked – no, struggled – to stare into the heart of the clouds of darkness. His breath rattled within his throat, awakening the beast before him. Crimson eyes cut through the onslaught of icy darkness, coloring the world around them orange, red, yellow, black, and blue with fire and brimstone. The brunette genius groaned softly due to his pain – and his irritation, as well. But Spencer still forced himself to stare pointblank into the eyes of the monstrous beast, Eric Black.

A breathy laugh whispered through his parted lips, and Spencer smiled at the realization that this creature was silently holding him captive, grasping at the reigns with nimble fingers. His blood, his life, and his very soul had been steadily slipping through his hands for years – now, all had been stolen by this beautiful creature: Death.

Spencer groaned again, albeit quietly, while also listening as each of his heartbeats began fading faster than the last. "Fuck…."

Eric cackled darkly at the whispered expletive and patted each of his bloodied cheeks with the handle of the whip, one after the other. He stroked nimble fingers down his bare chest and purred, "Did she warm your sheets like I did, dearest?"

"No," Spencer bravely whispered into the roar of painful darkness, which rushed into his ears and through his veins. His tawny eyes were shining with dark mirth and glee with each word that he spit at the vengeful Demon. It was a vicious lie, true, but so much the better. "She burned right _through_ them."

Black leather whistled through the air, the sound of which he had not heard before and truly never wished to hear again. Stunned, Spencer inhaled sharply at the raw, primal feeling of being branded by the whip, and bit into his lower lip to keep from screaming. The young man released that breath and swallowed the mouthful of blood that had trickled down his cheeks, over swollen lips, and into his open mouth. And Spencer did not scream. He smiled.

"Whore!" Eric shrieked, and the sound of his raspy voice echoed wall to wall, ceiling to floor, room to room with the force of its vehemence. The word, though singular when spoken, vibrated in his ears a thousand times over. "You are a stupid, filthy, disgusting _whore!_"

Fire burned in his shrinking lungs with each strike of the relentless whip, and Spencer could not breathe through the waves of horrifying pain. Countless tears trickled down the side of his face, so the genius quickly busied himself with the impossible task of counting them all – one, two, three, four hundred. The whip smacked against his bare hip this time, and he screamed of his pain to the heavens. His throat, though raw with the effort of doing so, released scream after desperate scream into the oppressive silence. Pained howls slowly morphed into disturbed, deranged shrieks of laughter, the sounds of which fueled the anger of this eternal creature.

Demon. Lucifer. Beelzebub. Prince of Darkness.

**The Devil. **

He growled, though, and the anger within that one sound had him recoiling in confusion. "You will burn for this betrayal, filthy streetwalker," Eric continued ranting, even as rigid fingers lifted Spencer into the air by the scruff of his neck and tightened the whip around the base, just above his collar bones.

…_bones_…

This, it seemed, was to be his end: Spencer would succumb to the cold death delivered by the evil hidden beneath handsome blonde hair and blue eyes. Wings of black shadows and sharp horns, bloodied from his rampage, were almost forgotten in the wake of such terrible beauty – almost, but not quite. The deranged serial killer, Eric Black, had been born of cold betrayal, heartbreak, and necessity. He was incredibly dangerous, pure and simple. Most people, then, would therefore back away and quietly cower in the safety of the corner while awaiting rescue.

Spencer, however, was not "_most people._" He laughed openly in the face of Death – and loudly, at that. His disdain was audible, palpable even, and it tasted amazingly of blood and candy sweet surrender. Forgiveness, though, tainted the victory, making it bittersweet at best.

He, Spencer John Reid, gasped his horror and regret into the silence, but the only intelligible words amongst the string of garbled sentences were –

"I…forgive…you…"

**Fifteen.**The Angel of Death screamed at him, truly outraged, and snarled viciously at this cruel and horrible injustice. Fifteen memories of mutilated albeit beautiful young men were now so very marred by the holy laughter and forgiveness of yet another victim. _**Fifteen!**_He roared, beyond angry with this sudden change of events, and then withered beneath the regret of his actions, controlled by the heartbroken subconscious singing inside of him. _**Fifteen…**_

_He, Eric Benjamin Black, had killed fifteen innocent young men._

Eric slowly, almost hesitantly, reached for his slender neck, which was still bared submissively before the dominant creature hovering above him with whips and chains. He stroked the pulse, following the gentle thrumming beneath the ghostly white skin with thick claws – or rather, the thick fingernails. One fingernail ripped into his throat, spilling ruby red blood and coloring his white shirt crimson with life.

The brunette did not flinch or startle at the sudden pain and the unexpected intrusion. In fact, Spencer welcomed the familiar feeling of those demonic hands digging into his skin and firmly wrapping themselves around his neck, slowly squeezing every ounce of his life from his broken body. He reveled in this sensation of his soul drifting from within his heart, into his ghostly skin, through his pores, and into the night. Spencer smiled down at his corpse.

_**Sixteen.**_

Eric sighed, his regret winning now, and bowed his head in prayer above the broken form before him. He stroked his hands through the soft brown locks of his lover. "I am… so very sorry…my darling…" His grip slackened then, as anticipated, and he clutched his chest, falling forward.

Black feathers exploded into crimson stardust, burning through his blonde hair, worn, clothes, and tanned skin like an inferno. Spencer, still numb and all alone, so alone, drifted to the floor in a cloud of dusty feathers and blood. He smiled at his saviors, two tall males battling the darkness with shining halos and white wings of light. Four eyes – two, forest green; the others, coal black – stared into his tawny gaze with the same emotions screaming in their depths. Pain, concern, and fear.

Love…

Glaring halfheartedly into the darkness, Aaron lowered the handgun and, through the faint shimmer of tears, his green eyes were soft with regret. And Aaron, _sweet_ Aaron, hesitantly stepped forward, slipping through puddles of blood due to the lack of traction created by his black leather shoes, and barely maintaining his balance. The eldest alpha swallowed the thick lump in his throat and marveled over the beauty of their (**Fallen**) Angel, even while he was in the determined clutches of Death.

His mouth parted, hanging open with horror, and Aaron brokenly whispered the name of his second lover, his breath catching on a small whimper. "_Spencer_…" Aaron mumbled, the name just trickling into the nothingness around them like acid rain.

That softly whispered word, the name of his lover, provided Derek with all the adrenaline that he needed at that moment. Derek burst forth from behind the older male, with his attention focused only upon a small bundle of naked skin, broken bones, and bloodied brown hair. He dropped to his knees beside the tabletop, stained dark red with the blood of his youngest lover. Calloused brown hands, both shaking with terror, hovered uselessly above his broken form. Spencer mumbled his discontent and moved backwards, farther away, away, go away.

Derek stopped in his tracks, fluttering his hands uselessly at his sides, uncertain of whether or not he should touch the broken Angel. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…" A keening sob escaped his parted lips, ending the frenzied litany.

Oddly enough, Spencer, the atheist without a care or prayer, smiled briefly in relief. He slowly opened his eyes and, though hooded, bloodshot, swollen, and glassy, his Bambi eyes were still beautifully soft in color. Intelligence glittered deep in their depths and their innocence was not overshadowed by the memories of the past, as might be expected of another in this position.

Silence reigned, crashing through the darkness with an empty shrieking in ringing ears. Frozen by the tragic scene now unfolding before them, Aaron and Derek could only stare down at their youngest lover, waiting for him to move, speak, perhaps to smile and tell them one of his corny science jokes. (_"You all heard the one about Albert Einstein?"_) But Spencer only smiled at his sweet, handsome, protective alpha males.

"I'm sorry…"

He died.

* * *

***Author's Note***

**_THE END!_**

...ha, ha, ha?

Yeah, yeah, yeah; I know. That was not the _best_ joke in the world, but... *Shrugs* ...I thought it was pretty funny! :D

With that said, **I have a question,** and it might be kind of morbid, but I like to give you all choices, so please pick one of the following options:

**1)** Do you _want_ this to be the end? (You sick weirdoes... ;P)

**OR**

**2)** Do you want the other chapters that I have planned? Keep in mind that there are only **four!** (_Happy ending, anyone?_) )

Please respond with a **review,** as each review will feed the hungry mind and starving heart of one socially deprived author. Hint, hint: I would also loooove to see about ninety reviews, should the audience be sweet enough to leave a response - good, bad, it sucks, whatever is clever! *Two Thumbs Up*

**Thanks for reading/favoriting/alerting/reviewing, peeps! ^_^**


	12. Chapter Twelve: Sleeping Beauty

~ Chapter Twelve ~

Sleeping Beauty

'_Cause I'm Looking At You Through the Glass.__  
__Don't Know How Much Time Has Passed, __  
__All I Know Is That It Feels Like Forever.__  
__But No One Ever Tells You That Forever __  
__Feels Like Home._

_Just Listen to the Noises,__  
__Null and Void, Instead of Voices._

_Oh, God, It Feels Like Forever…_

~_Through Glass,_ by Stone Sour

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Silence reigned, crashing through the darkness with an empty shrieking in ringing ears. Frozen by the tragic scene now unfolding before them, Aaron and Derek could only stare down at their youngest lover, waiting for him to move, speak, perhaps to smile and tell them one of his corny science jokes. (_"You all heard the one about Albert Einstein?"_) But Spencer only smiled at his sweet, handsome, protective alpha males.**

**"I'm sorry…"**

**He died.**

* * *

Three weeks, two days, four hours, forty three minutes, and approximately fifteen seconds had passed from the time that Eric Black, dubbed the "**Black Angel**" by the media, had been killed. Aaron glared at his ticking watch and sighed deeply at being forced to resort to approximations when sitting right next to the resident genius, who could calculate such numbers in his, well, _sleep_…

Tired and thoroughly depressed, Aaron lifted his hand and clenched his palm, fingers, and thumb into a small fist. He clenched and unclenched the fist repeatedly, staring at the veins in his wrist with mild interest. The oldest alpha sighed and then rubbed his hand through his shaggy black hair and rough beard, both of which were in desperate need of trimming. "This is **ridiculous**," Aaron mumbled. He grimly stared down his nose at the occupied hospital bed and, feeling numb, closed his dark green eyes once more.

Why had Spencer not stirred yet?

Pain coursed through his veins and echoed in his head, planting a seed of doubt and, because he was practically drowning in worry and guilt, the flower began to bloom into nasty apprehension. Aaron barely managed to repress a growl of frustration, thoroughly disgusted with himself – and with the fact that he could not help one of the people dearest to his heart: Spencer. He, Aaron Hotchner, missed his youngest lover, Spencer. He could not smile, could not think, could not **breathe **properly without that familiar voice chattering incessantly. About coffee, about the newest rendition of Star Wars, about Sir Isaac Newton and the Laws of Gravity!

He wanted Spencer to sigh, to sift through the pile of old magazines at his bedside, and to begin halfheartedly grumbling about the lack of educational reading material that the hospital offered – or rather, did** not** offer – their patients, all of whom _desperately_ wanted random information and facts to sift through and digest, of course. (Inquiring minds wanted to know, to learn, to grow!)

He wanted Spencer to lean back against the metal headboard of his too white hospital bed, to poke warily at the pile of suspiciously bland food, and to bite into a piece of burnt toast, before mumbling to himself about the horrible cafeteria food typical of hospitals and rabidly spitting out **'important'** percentages about _this_ and _that._ (Did either one of his lovers know that grain…?)

He wanted Spencer to fold his arms and darkly glare at the glistening pitcher of water still resting by his supposed breakfast of cardboard toast and plastic eggs, to loudly complain about the lack of coffee, and chocolate, and caffeine in general. (Where was management – actually, scratch that, where was the nearest Starbucks?)

He wanted Spencer to glance at him through thick, black eyelashes, to stare curiously at him with those beautiful Bambi eyes, and to cheer him up with that sweetly oblivious grin. (Hi, Aaron! Did Aaron want to play chess? He promised to give him a chance at winning this time…)

_**Beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep.**_

He wanted Spencer to wake up.

…_please_…

A large hand clasped itself tightly around his hunched left shoulder and, though Aaron would have preferred that it belong to his sweet genius, the presence of his first lover brightened his countenance considerably. Not a moment too soon, Aaron recognized his relaxed posture for what it was – _weakness, a goddamn __**weakness**_– and fought against the desire to lean into the reassuring touch of the younger male. He frowned, his lips twitching with the effort, and stubbornly attempted to remain stern, strong, and aloof. Made of stone. Perfect.

"I know, Aaron," Derek murmured, his strong hand squeezing the shoulder gently, both in pain and understanding. He of all people knew that Aaron – his boss, his friend, his **lover** – was not accustomed to finding comfort in another person. Rather, Aaron offered comfort to others in such situations – and only awkwardly, at that.

Upon hearing those two words, and his first name, falling from the lips of his equally distraught lover, Aaron permitted his tired body to sluggishly slouch forward. He placed his aching head in his hands and slowly, shakily, inhaled another breath of (too cold, too thin, too stale, _too __**fucking**__ clean_) hospital air. The frosty oxygen within his lungs rattled suspiciously, sounding quite like a pair of painted maracas. He smiled to himself in dark amusement, remembering that Spencer absolutely **loved **painted maracas.

A small bark of laughter escaped his lips, which had parted in surprise, and Aaron desperately tried to hide his tears from the other alpha, not wanting to appear weak. He hissed through his clenched teeth. "Fuck…"

Silently, Derek moved forward and, ignoring the protocol – _no touching, flirting, fraternizing _– that his boss had practically drilled into his skull, wrapped the older male into his warm embrace. Aaron blinked repeatedly, forcing the tears to slide down silently his cheeks, and fought the odd desire to cough and clear the small lump in his throat. Instead, Aaron returned the affectionate embrace. He did this hesitantly, leaning forward with trepidation to rest his head against the warm, muscled stomach of his coworker, his friend, his lover – and his equal.

"Fuck, I want him back," Aaron whispered into his stomach, his words muffled by the black material of the thin muscle tee. "I want him back, Derek, and I want us all back together again, just fighting over stupid shit." He laughed bitterly at his next thought, his voice thick with tears, and then muttered, "Like that damn door of his…"

Derek, of course, was not surprised by the sudden bout of cursing, in spite of the fact that it was unusual for his normally prim and (much too) proper counterpart to resort to such crude means of expressing himself. He merely sighed in frustration, kissed the crown of his black haired head, and amiably responded, "I hear ya, man."

After that small conversation, Aaron and Derek moved to seat themselves on a nearby loveseat, which the former found disgustingly ironic, while the latter halfheartedly smirked and muttered his usual bullshit about the two of them happily fucking like rabbits. These silly words, though meant to spark a smile from his lover, merely floated into the icy silence of the stifling hospital room. Aaron was a million miles away and hiding within the safety of his own mind, the arms around his shoulders and waist long forgotten; just empty memories now. All remained quiet, save an occasional beep from the monitor situated beside the hospital bed in front of them.

_**Beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep,**__ hum, hum, __**beep.**_

As an agent, Aaron was trained to withstand unpleasant sounds, sights, smells, tastes, and other sensations. He could not, however, stomach the sound of that accursed heart monitor for much longer – not if he wanted to remain sound of mind, anyway. Enduring another ten minutes of the slow humming of that electronic heartbeat was enough to make Aaron was strongly question his sanity. There was a want – no, **need** – to remove the heavy hands from his sides and stand tall, strong, proud. Aaron wanted to be return to his dominant personality again, making himself useful by working, instead of just sitting here with his tail tucked between his back legs.

"I need to get out of here, Derek," Aaron abruptly stated, like it was a simple fact of nature. His green eyes darted towards Spencer and surveyed the collection of tubes, needles, machines, and charts attached to their youngest lover with a wince. Closed them briefly to regain his composure. "At least for a couple of minutes or so…"

Derek slowly lifted his tired body from its warm niche in the small couch, and he stared directly at his older lover, worry shining in his onyx eyes. "Aaron…?" His name was murmured within a small sigh, the sound almost reproachful in nature. He reached for Aaron, trying to pull him towards his chest in order to bury his face in the neck of his older lover.

Desperately, Aaron jerked to the left and jumped to his feet, both of which were asleep from the hour of reclining with his lover on the black loveseat. He slowly turned to face Spencer, barely repressing the need to fidget, twitch, and card his fingers through the hair of his youngest lover, to hear him sigh with pleasure. Aaron wanted to finally be able to make love to him, and hear the gentle brunette call their names in ecstasy. He wanted him to wake up…

Much like Sleeping Beauty, though, Spencer remained fast asleep, oblivious to the worry and tension burning the veins of his lovers.

"Do you want anything from the cafeteria – some coffee, perhaps a sandwich?" Aaron politely inquired, seemingly of sweet, silent Spencer. His body, however, was angled towards the black male. "I also found several vending machines down the hall and to the left, by the waiting… room…" He trailed off to listen to the agitated beeping of the heart monitor.

_**Beep,**__ hum, hum, __**whir, **__hum, hum, __**beep,**__ hum, hum, __**whir, **__hum, hum__**,**__**beep**__**!**_

With a small grimace at that harshly transmitted sound of heartbeats, Derek solemnly nodded his acceptance of the fact that his lover needed to make himself useful by running a pointless errand. One hand, feeling much too hot from holding onto Aaron for the last hour, absently kneaded his empty stomach as it growled for sustenance. He stared at the unmoving corpse (_body, Derek, __**body**_) of his youngest lover, thinking of all the foods that Spencer would request if awake.

Coffee, cookies, brownies, coffee, chocolate, pizza, more coffee, hamburgers, and…

"Huh…" Without conscious thought, Derek smirked at the memory of yet _another_ hospital visit, which occurred in a room much like this, and with the same patient, too. He laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head in amusement, and called, "Bring me some orange Jell-O, okay?"

Although Aaron did not respond to this strange request, a small bowl of brightly colored gelatin appeared in his lap about ten minutes later. He immediately worked at tearing apart the plastic wrapping, removing the plastic ware and digging the spork into his Jell-O. "Thanks," Derek said, with a smile that was small but most assuredly genuine.

His lips twitched steadily upwards and into a small, crooked smile. "You're welcome," Aaron quietly responded, before returning his attention to his reddened hands, which were still loosely wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee that he had swiped from the cafeteria.

"Hey…"

That softly whispered word, with the accompanying groan of pleasure, suddenly alerted the two alphas to the conscious state of their youngest lover. Spencer slowly moved into a regular sitting position, wary of the needles embedded in his elbows and the backs of his hands. (_Better __**not**__ be Dilaudid…_) Both Aaron and Derek jerked in surprise but did not move an inch, in part because of the sudden shock of staring into a pair of tawny eyes, and partly due to the fact that the unintentionally sensual sound had aroused them both. Shocker!

Caught off guard, Aaron shifted uncomfortably in an attempt to ease into a position that would not chafe his growing manhood. He coughed into his right elbow to avoid contaminating the holy coffee with germs or saliva and, with a small blush, quietly muttered, "Hi, Spencer."

Derek, on the other hand, looked like he was about ready to just remove his pants, lunge at the bed, and fuck the young man senseless – consequences and impending arrests be damned! The exhibitionist probably did not mind the fact that nurses could enjoy the show, either. The glass window, when coupled with the lovely camera implanted in the popcorn ceiling just outside the door, would incriminate all **three** of them, for sure. Because Aaron Hotchner was not about to be left out of the fun!

In spite of waking from his eternal slumber, Spencer remained perfectly oblivious to the sexual tension zipping through the air, much like lightning. The brunette yawned widely, his pink lips stretching to accommodate the action while simultaneously increasing the high levels of physical discomfort suffered by the other occupants within the hospital room. He stared at them both for a moment, completely silent, and then blinked (not so) innocently at the obvious bulges in their pants, raising his left eyebrow in obvious amusement at the sight of their predicament.

Awkward…

Without preamble, Spencer reached towards his boss and grabbed the warm mug of coffee from his tense hands, immediately sipping at the caffeinated drink. "This is absolutely _amazing!_" He closed his eyes and hummed softly in pleasure, much to the chagrin of the other males.

Finally, Spencer reopened his tawny eyes in order to turn and speak to Derek, his head tilted to the side like a puppy. This action, which was ridiculously adorable in appearance, caused both Aaron and Derek to swallow nervously, their minds automatically dropping into the gutters with an audible **clink!** Spencer, as oblivious to the signs as always, smiled sweetly at his lovers. The beautiful brunette leaned forward in a motion that caused his blue hospital dress to open and reveal the slender curve of his neck, the smooth skin of his hairless chest, and the thin line of brown hair that trailed from his navel and into the darkness of lower half of his gown.

"Can I have that Jell-O?"

* * *

***Author's Note***

With this chapter, I wanted to explore the **relationship between Aaron and Derek**, in part because it existed at the beginning of this story without much explanation as to how it came to be, and because, as two alphas, coexistence is hard to achieve. Fighting for the love of their precious Spencer and all that, you know? ;)

On a side note, I am positively **stunned** at the **amount of reviews** that I got for this **last chapter!** (((_**Thank you so much!**)))_ While I would like to claim my awesome writing as the explanation, though, I have a nagging feeling that it is more to do with the fact that I "killed" Spencer. ;P *Senses the Impending Rotten Vegetables and Ducks* **Sorry! **

But I did read the reviews and, though I will have to seriously struggle with the next three updates due to school and work, **I will finish this story!** With Spencer alive, too! ;) So please **read and review,** as always! I will be posting the **lemon** in the **next chapter,** so keep that in mind. :)

P.S. First update of the New Year! Happy 2013! =^_^=


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Nightmares

~ Chapter Thirteen ~

Nightmares

_Now It Seems I'm Fading.__  
__All My Dreams Are Not Worth Saving. __  
__I've Done My Fair Share of Waiting,__  
__And I've Got Nowhere Else To Go._

_Seems You're Wanting Me To Stay,__  
__But My Dreams Would Surely Waste Away. __  
__And I Still Have Nowhere Else To Go,__  
__So I Wait For You To…_

_Take Me All The Way._

~_Take Me Under,_ by Three Days Grace

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Finally, Spencer reopened his tawny eyes in order to turn and speak to Derek, his head tilted to the side like a puppy. This action, which was ridiculously adorable in appearance, caused both Aaron and Derek to swallow nervously, their minds automatically dropping into the gutters with an audible clink! Spencer, as oblivious to the signs as always, smiled sweetly at his lovers. The beautiful brunette leaned forward in a motion that caused his blue hospital dress to open and reveal the slender curve of his neck, the smooth skin of his hairless chest, and the thin line of brown hair that trailed from his navel and into the darkness of lower half of his gown.**

**"Can I have that Jell-O?"**

* * *

Piano notes whispered through the master bathroom, soft, sweet, and reassuring in the oncoming darkness of night. The brunette smiled faintly at the familiar sounds of the comforting classical music, savoring the beautiful notes of the sleek instrument, courtesy of the brilliant Frederic Chopin. Sweetly, Spencer hummed in time to the instrumental music, his voice carrying nonsensical words along with the bark, rich, and entirely enchanting melody. Beautiful.

With a small sigh of content, Spencer slowly relaxed into the warmth and safety of the jetted tub, his arms curled around the basin and his back resting against the heated granite material. Tawny eyes stared into space as memories of his most recent capture drifted to the forefront of his mind – that icy blue glare, shining wickedly in the dim light of the old café, and his mouth, opened to reveal two rows of teeth, all sharp and threatening in appearance, as quiet words whispered into every inch of his mind.

"**You are a stupid, filthy, disgusting whore!"**

_Whore, whore, whore, whore, whore… _

He shuddered lightly and began scrubbing at his face with a mint green washcloth, furiously attempting to wash the whispered words and sin from his (dirty, nasty, tainted) skin. Moments passed, and Spencer slowly lowered the cloth, letting the green cloth fall back into the jetted tub and watching it sink to the bottom – in slow motion, like a small rock. Spencer stared blankly into the murky water, which had been dirtied with sweat, oil, and other miscellaneous fluids. Tears, Spencer recalled, brushing his fingertips against his watery eyes. He sniffled, raising slender hands to hide his eyes, and the furious waterfall of tears cascading down his face.

_Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer._

_Whore, __**Spencer,**__ Whore, __**Spencer,**__ Whore…_

"Spencer!"

Caught by surprise, Spencer visibly jerked in surprise, not expecting to hear this particular voice ringing in his ears, and then stiffened almost immediately after, remembering the tears glittering in his eyelashes. He rushed to swipe his hands up and down his face, thus hiding his tearstained cheeks, stuffy nose, and swollen, bloodshot eyes. The lanky brunette hesitantly dropped his hands to his sides and instinctively pulled his long legs upwards, hiding his – uh, blaringly obvious – state of nudity.

"Sorry, Derek," Spencer muttered, coughing to clear his throat. His innards were raw, it seemed, ripped to shreds from the force with which Spencer had shoved the sobs down, deeper and deeper inside of his (broken) soul.

"Fuck, Spencer, I've been talking to you at least five minutes now," Derek said, annoyed, before his dark glare darted towards the wet face of his youngest lover and noticed the tears glistening beneath the sheen of bathwater. Charcoal rich eyes softened, and Derek sighed, "Baby Boy…"

Slender hands were now clasped nervously together, fidgeting under the professional scrutiny of this sudden, unwanted attention. Spencer squirmed lightly, almost imperceptibly, and then cleared his throat yet again. He widened his eyes and innocently inquired, "Yes?"

As always, Derek aimed his verbal punches hard, fast, and direct. He immediately narrowed his eyes at this feigned innocence and bluntly demanded, "Were you crying before I came in here, Baby Boy?"

"No!" Spencer snapped, all the while curling his shoulders inwards and defensively hunching against the penetrating stare of his second lover. The genius mentally reviewed that response at the speed of light, inwardly cringing at the obvious state of his defensive reaction. Shit!

"You were…" Derek breathed in surprise, his eyes, voice, and expression practically radiating sorrow at the realization that his youngest lover was in so much mental and emotional distress.

At that moment, Spencer realized just how much his lovers cared for him – as a coworker, friend, and lover. His (rather typical) kidnapping had, predictably, resulted in a rather brutal beating and brush with death, which always served to put his alpha males on a much higher level of alertness. Then, Spencer scared his lovers half to death with his stubborn refusal to wake from a coma, an unexpected surprise that appeared to have thoroughly shaken them both to the core. Traumatic experiences might be their forte, but everyone, including Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan, had their limits.

And Spencer almost dying for the umpteenth time, it seemed, had _apparently_ been that limit…

His rapid descent into a quiet, unpredictable, and, well, depressing depression did not appear to have helped their relatively poor states of mind much. Spencer supposed that refusing to harbor their love, avoiding their gentle touches, rejecting their (obviously romantic in nature) advances, and practically barricading himself in the bathroom for several hours each day were partially to blame, as well. Spencer grimaced. He would not, come to think of it, find the idea of making love to a pathetic, white prune a very appealing one, either! Kinda like kissing a raisin.

Derek crouched beside the jetted tub, his thick legs curling beneath his sculpted backside as a more comfortable sitting position was achieved. He braced himself against the side of the small alcove, his brown hands, fingers, and white nails blending beautifully with the mottled collection of white, gray, and black tiles, all of which were made of misted granite. Hands, darkened by his ethnicity and several decades in the sun, retrieved the green washcloth at the bottom of the tub. Carefully, Derek squeezed the soft material to remove excess water, and then began to gently wash the faint tearstains from his cheeks, cooing softly at his lover the entire time.

Almost immediately, Spencer could feel his heartbeat begin to race in his chest, quickening in response to the unexpectedly sensual nature of the ministrations. His pulse gradually slowed to its normal rate, however, after recognizing that nothing untoward would happen – at least, not without his consent, anyway. He leaned into the touch, nuzzling the bare flesh that came into contact with his own. Derek inhaled sharply, his lips twitching with the effort needed to physically restrain himself from pouncing at his emotionally distraught lover.

Innocent Spencer had other plans in mind, however, and leaned forward to place his pink lips to the mouth that hovered just inches above his own. Surprisingly, Derek remained unresponsive to the gentle touch, and Spencer frowned lightly in disappointment, before pressing insistently into the unyielding lips, hoping beyond words for a (positive, please be positive) response. Alas, Spencer could not feel the other male responding in the least to his sweet desire for more. Absolutely nothing – not his lips, not his hands at his chest – seemed to coax the silent, motionless alpha into action, and Spencer wanted to cry in his frustration.

When Spencer had decided to begin pulling back, thinking that his romantic intentions were not returned, Derek shifted beneath his timid touch and eagerly responded to the kiss. His dark lips molded themselves around the smaller lips of his youngest lover – pushing and pulling until the brunette male was moaning softly from beneath him, practically begging him for more. Derek smirked into his mouth, before separating his own and then scraping his teeth against the red, swollen lips.

"Oh!" Spencer whimpered lightly at the sensation of hard teeth nipping at his soft flesh, savoring the feeling of the older male moving from his lips, to his chin, to his neck, all the while leaving a small trail of love bites in his wake. "Feels so good, Derek…"

"'Course it does, Sweet Boy," Derek grunted in laughter, his eyes glinting with barely concealed amusement at the naivety of his youngest lover, who was, as a matter of fact, writhing beneath him in ecstasy at the simplest of touches.

Whimpers and soft hums of pleasure escaped from between his parted lips, and Spencer sighed luxuriously at the sweet, gentle ministrations. He leaned his head backwards, allowing the older male to bury his face in the exposed bit of his neck, which was so incredibly creamy, deliciously soft, and, of course, alluring. Derek could feel himself rapidly hardening at the mere presence of his sweet lover, the latter of whom moaned and scratched at his arms, sharpened nails digging into his tender flesh. The fact that Spencer was, er, quite vocal definitely did nothing for his already strained self control, either…

"Well, I feel almost hurt that no one mentioned this little party to me."

Surprised, Spencer ripped his lanky form from the grasp of his second lover, pulling backwards with a small yelp after noticing the new arrival. Aaron was, as of that moment, leaning against the doorframe shaping the bathroom entryway, casually observing them with forest green eyes. His arms were crossed together, wrapped around his bare chest, and his eyebrow was raised in what could only be amusement at the sight of his embarrassment. And Spencer gulped at this perfect picture of masculine sexuality that his lover presented: Aaron smirked, and his teeth glinted in a decidedly predatory manner, one which made (confused) Spencer want to run – straight into his arms.

Aaron lazily stretched to his full height, before prowling closer to his lovers, both of whom were now staring at him with obvious desire. He smiled faintly at the image of his beloved partners wrapped around each other, limbs tangled together in a passionate embrace and reddened lips swollen from heated kissing. His life, though difficult and often dangerous, was seemingly complete, but only with Derek and Spencer at his side. Forever.

"Was I not invited to this party for any reason in particular?" Aaron questioned teasingly, a small smile darting across pink lips before vanishing into a seemingly quick pout of disappointment.

With a squawk of protest, Spencer floundered desperately for a moment, his mouth opening and closing in an attempt to spit out coherent words and explain the events occurring just prior to this apparent inquisition. Spencer flinched lightly and stuttered, "Uh, I, well, Derek just, uh…"

_Yes, Spencer was a genius, and quite the eloquent one at that, don't you agree? _

Abruptly, Aaron decided to grant him mercy and, instead, turned to Derek with a small, crooked smile. "You two are apparently forgetting the rules," Aaron said, amused, and secretly grinning to himself at the fact that Spencer stared at him in horror, worried that this information could be rather important.

And Spencer, as expected, leaned forward to focus and hurriedly demand, "What would that be, Aaron?" His tawny eyes were wide, worried, and expectant, with an air of panic that further amused the older male.

On the other hand, Derek snorted heartily at this reaction, but also at the supposed "rules" that were in place until further notice, per the orders of the hospital physicians. "Nah," Derek swiftly muttered, reaching forward to gently card his hands through the brow locks of his lovers, an act that transformed into light caresses.

Spencer sluggishly turned to face his first lover, attempting to stay focused with his eyes at half mast and his voice husky with lust. He cleared his throat, lifted his soft gaze upwards, and stubbornly inquired, "What rules, Aaron?" Blink, blink, squint.

"The doctor said that you are not to consume certain foods and beverages, the latter of which includes coffee," Aaron hesitantly listed the rules that the physician had outlined in the large packet of treatment plans, knowing that Spencer would balk at the strictly enforced ban on caffeine. He waited. "You also need to rest for at least ten to eleven hours a night, and…"

To his surprise, Spencer moaned in sudden pleasure and not raging fury, thanks to the work of his second lover, Derek. The former blushed at the raised eyebrow and generally humorous scrutiny of his first lover, Aaron, while the latter merely smirked in triumph, preening at the accomplishment of making Spencer blush and moan so sweetly under his ministrations. He sighed.

"Are you idiots listening to me or not?" Aaron asked, before narrowing his forest green eyes at the fact that Derek was practically molesting innocent Spencer in front of him – and without his help, too! The nerve of that imbecile!

"Yes, I mean, uh…" He started to respond in time to the question, but Spencer found himself distracted – almost cross eyed, in fact – by the slender finger that dipped in between his parted lips, tracing his teeth and tongue with fascination. "…not really."

Aaron sighed wearily, reaching upwards with both hands to rub his temples. The pressure was adding to his already pounding headache and that, quite honestly, did not make him happy with his lovers in the slightest. "The doctor also said not to strain yourself and…"

"Sure, sure…" Spencer snorted lightly at this warning, already two thousand miles away – if the relaxed, almost blank expression on his face was any indication, anyway. Foreplay was not, good for his abnormally high intelligence quotient, it seemed.

"You are not supposed to have sex yet!" Aaron finished loudly, his hands thrown up in the air, and annoyed at the prospect that neither of his lovers seemed to realize that this was, in fact, important information regarding his health.

With a sigh of resignation, Derek removed his hands from the milky skin of his youngest lover, a small pout working its way up and to his lips. He rolled his eyes at the unwanted information, clearly disgruntled, and muttered, "Damn…"

Spencer, however, was not in the mood to follow rules at the moment, and the young genius was already thinking back to the pleasurable sensation of hot, naked skin pressed into to his own. He adopted his infamous expression of innocent mischief and turned to stare into the face of his first lover. His eyes were warm, almost like melted chocolate, and Spencer softly murmured, "Uh, Aaron?"

Aaron was immediately rooted to the tiled floor of his master bathroom, his lips parted with the one word – the only word, it seemed – that he was capable of forming at the moment. "…yes?"

Moonlight trickled through the parted blinds of the bathroom window, and Spencer slowly, very tortuously, shifted until the night bathed his lanky form in beams of golden light. Water slipped down his chest, shivered down his bare stomach, and clutched at his slim hipbones, highlighting the dents with the glow of heavenly moonlight. Falling then, like stardust, to his nearly exposed nether regions, was a small droplet of crystal clear water. Aaron and Derek inhaled sharply in unison, each of them picturing their hands sliding down his soft, wet sides, and his sharp hips, and his groin…!

Cutely, Spencer titled his head to the side and smiled at the pair of them, resembling a small, innocent puppy in search of his playmates.

"Fuck me, please?"

* * *

***Author's Note***

Okay, I will admit that this **update was slower** than normal, but **I did not realize that I would have to devote so much time to studying **for the teacher certification tests! I decided that, to save money on the test, the best option was actually to take all three sections together, meaning that I had to sit in a testing center for FIVE HOURS! There are still two tests to take for the second step of teacher certification, too... :'(

Before writing the lemon, I wanted to explore with the emotional stress that Spencer must be dealing with after his traumatic experience and, uh, near death. *Guilty Smile* He was almost raped, too, and victims of such crimes generally feel unwanted by their lover(s). **Thus, Spencer would not feasibly just straight into the arms of his alphas without first moping around. **;)

There are only **two chapters** remaining! Chapter **fourteen** will be the **lemon,** whereas chapter **fifteen** will be the **epilogue. ** Hope you all enjoy this chapter, and the next two, as well...

**Please read and review, **because** I was nice enough to procrastinate my school work **in order** to update this story! **:D


End file.
